True Blue
by cgaussie01
Summary: Pt 5! Finally! Blue Devil continues to cause trouble, but what kind of a man is he really, and what kind of trauma did he witness to turn him into who he has become? The townsfolk, meanwhile, make plans of their own...
1. Chapter 1

The train ride was a bumpy affair, and Roxanne wondered just how the big machine managed to keep itself together and not rattle out every single nut and screw that held the whole thing together. It had been a terribly long ride too and her rear was starting to fall asleep. Sighing, she got to her feet and walked her way down the length of the car, passing by the other passengers. As she did the men tilted their heads to her and she gave a small smile in return, nodding her head back at them. She reached a new seat and sat for a moment, looking at the world outside passing by as a fast pace.

She was moving west. There was a call for teachers and women with an actual education way out there amongst the dust and rocks and Roxanne Ritchi, a young and rather smart woman had decided to pack her things, kiss her mother and father goodbye and head out West. Of course they being the loving parents they were had sent her along with a good couple hundred dollars in her purse, and the promise that if she ever needed more help to send them a telegram. Even more importantly, if things were to go bad, she was always welcome back home.

But Roxanne wasn't the type to turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble. That's just not who she was, so different was she to the other little girls she had grown up playing with. All they cared about was who they would marry, how rich he would be, how handsome and how many little children they'd have.

"But don't you want something more out of life?" the young Roxanne, hair in plaits, had asked her friends.

"What else is there for us to do?" replied a friend. "Whoever it is I marry should count himself lucky to have the honour of taking my hand in marriage."

Roxanne decided back then to choose other friends, better ones who actually had goals. Unfortunately, it being 1802, not many women strived for much more outside of marriage and children. Yet she stuck to her goals, got herself a proper education and became a teacher's assistant at the ripe age of only fourteen. Since then she had spent the last ten years of her life dedicated to educating children and opening up worlds to them, especially the girls.

And that is what led her being on this train, heading out to a little town in the middle of no where. Word was gold was in 'them thar hills' and there had been a whole lot of miners heading out not a few years earlier. None of the gold had been found, but the people had remained, having grown to love the land and live off of it. They were tough people, she reckoned. While being tough was one thing, being smarter was even more important. With a good head on your shoulders you could make your mark on the world, after all.

"And where's a pretty lil' thing like you goin' West fer?" asked a voice, which startled Roxanne out of her day dreaming. She turned her head and stared up at a tall, lanky man. Seemed she had sat opposite his seat while he was up moving about too.

"Beg your pardon." she said quietly as she shifted, giving him room to sit opposite her. "I'm a teacher. There's call for teachers out there and I intend to answer it."

"Dun reckon they seen mucha lady teachers out there." he replied as he tilted his hat back revealing a sun burned face ripe with wrinkles and lines of age. But his eyes were incredibly sharp and pinpointed, brown and warm as the earth. He had grey hair, evident by the bushy moustache that took up residence on his upper lip, busy and gray as ash. "Hell, I'd be surprised if they got a school house worth talkin' about."

"Really?" Roxanne asked, growing a little cautious but dare not express as much on her face. "What of the children, then?"

"Learn from their folks who don't know much ta begin' with." shrugged the man. "Know how ta grow a crop, tend to cattle. Little to nothing else in their lives."

She frowned, and looked outside. The thick greens of the forests were long behind them now, already the land was barren and red as sin, the sky a bright blue and the sun burned the ground. No longer were there trees, just the odd number of cacti spotted on the horizon. "Well I'd say it is time for them to be woken from their sleepy little existence. It isn't right to remain indifferent and ignorant of the world around you."

He gave a low chuckle, and turned his head to look out yonder at the land that continued to dry out more and more with every passing second. It had a beauty to it that one couldn't truly explain, how far the land stretched and how baron it was. The mountains that pushed up through the flatness were huge and intimidating, and the greenery that dared to try and grow out here was tough and spiky to the touch. This was a man's mans world, where gun slinging was how disputes were settled. Where horse robbers were hung from trees and left for the birds to peck clean. It was certainly an interesting place for a young unmarried woman to go.

He only hoped that she had some kind of protection waiting out there for her, since she'd need it. Or else she'll be heading back home quicker then a rattler hiding from a hawk.

"Pardon," he said before nodding to her. "Go by the name Ashby."

"Roxanne. Roxanne Ritchi." Roxanne replied with a small smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ashby."

"Pleasure's mine."

"So Mr. Ashby, you know my business. What of your own?" Roxanne asked, tilting her head slightly and giving him a small smile. "Going home? Visiting family? Business?"

"Little bit of all of em." Ashby replied casually as he looked outside the window again. "Been away from home for far too long, finally a letter caught up with me as did the past so I'm comin' home. Probably fer the last time." he said, voice gravelly as ever, yet somber and soothing to the ear. Funny how the two contrasts met and somehow worked with the man.

"That's sad." she commented, "Do you have another family waiting back North?"

"Nosy lil' lady ain't ya?" Ashby asked as he grinned at her, showing he meant no harm or disrespect. "Matter of fact I don't. Man like me, don't often have time ta settle 'n find a wife. Ain't no sad thing so don't be sayin' you're sorry. S'my own choices, s'my own life 'n I'm lyin' in the bed I made with my boots on 'n I'm content."

"Well as they say that's what matters in the end, correct?" Roxanne smiled, "To at least be happy in yourself."

"S'what some folk say." he nodded before settling back in his seat and shut his eyes. "Now pardon me miss but I been awake fer a good couple days 'n I am in great need of a rest."

"Oh, oh of course." Roxanne spluttered, quickly getting to her feet. "Do sleep well Mr. Ashby." she said before moving back along the carriage towards her seat. Finding it empty she got herself comfortable but not before checking to make sure her carry bag was still where it was and unhampered with. Not that she didn't trust the individuals travelling with her, but you had to understand that a young woman travelling alone had to be careful, right? She sighed and glanced outside for a moment, watching the land. How much longer was this train ride going to last? It had been two days now, and tomorrow they would finally arrive at some time around ten. So another sleepless night on a rickety train was in stall, so she got herself as comfortable as she could.

Her dreams were hazy, of what she could remember when she awoke the next day. Swirls of red and black, blue and white then she had felt like she was swimming through a river at some point and her red dress feeling far heavier than it should in the water. She was startled awake, gasping in surprise, and looked around to see if anyone had witnessed her unorthodox waking method. It seemed everyone was reading newspapers, or talking with one another. The newspapers, of course, had been read many a time by now since being on a train for three days meant you weren't as up to date with information as you would normally like. Sighing, Roxanne ran a finger along her eyebrows as she looked at her barely visible reflection in the glass of the window. She looked a fright, so she quickly got up to use the washroom at the back of the car to make herself presentable before arriving at the station.

After cleaning her face and re-plating her long hair into a bun at the back of her head Roxanne returned to her seat. As she passed two gentlemen talking she couldn't help but over hear their conversation, already heated and whirling about them.

"-they reckon the beasts made of metal, no bullet can hurt 'em." said one with a large graying beard and wearing a tacky brown hat.

"Well that can't be right." replied his friend, a younger man with strawberry red hair. "How could no bullet kill a dog?"

"Ain't no dogs. Coyotes from Hell, a'servein' their master the Devil." replied the grey man to which the younger man merely snorted.

Roxanne found her seat and sat, before feeling somebody approaching her from the side. She glanced up to find Mr. Ashby stood there, possibly making his own way to the washroom like herself. "Well g'morning, Miss Ritchi." he greeted her as cheerfully as a man like himself could manage.

"Mr. Ashby, good morning." she replied.

"Almost time, all excited like ta see your new home?" he asked, "Last I heard their dry seasons' about to finally break in a few comin' weeks. So that'll liven folks up for sure."

"I'm tellin' ya, blue as the sky in July!" shouted the grey bearded man from a few seats away, obviously getting riled up at his young friend's inability to believe the story he'd been telling. "Livin' out there like a red skin but his skin, blue! S'a Devil, Satan himself walkin' the land!"

"Calm down old man, calm down." said the younger man, waving his hands. "I didn't mean none. I just find it hard to believe. Everyone knows the Devil got red skin, now you sayin' he's blue? And living way out here?"

Roxanne turned her head to look at them, curious as to the topic of their conversation. A blue devil? Out here?

"I'm tellin' ya! I saw 'im, dressed from head to toe in black. Ridin' a horse not of this world. Then there's steam 'n smoke everywhere he goes! The reason he ain't been shot dead by anyone, cuz he's tha Devil! He gone spoke some poor fools ta death, inta handin' over their guns 'n their money 'n blowin' their brains out. That's how he takes ya soul. None of this contract stuff, no signin', just talkin!" the old man was obviously passionate about the subject, judging by how red his face was. "'N that's why I ain't stoppin' at this station! The Devil's out there, boy, 'n you'll be rich for the takin'!"

Roxanne turned away from the ranting man and glanced up at Ashby, who was still staring at the ranting man with a look of, dare she think, irritation? Irate? Sighing, Ashby turned away and looked back down at her. He smiled. "Amazin' what folk'll believe in ain't it?"

"Hmm." she agreed, but said nothing further. A blue man, the Devil himself, walking the plains? Stealing means souls and killing them without second thoughts, with monsters doing his bidding? They had certainly not mentioned such things to her when she had applied for the position of teacher out here. Then again why would they tell such harsh lies and fairy tales like that? At least, she hoped they were fairy tales... cautionary tale stories cooked up by the older generation to try and keep the young ones in line. No doubt she'll hear threatening yarns along the lines of 'eat your vegetables or the Blue Devil will drag you away' or something along those lines.

Yet she still couldn't shake the realization at just how... honest, the man had seemed in his madness. As if he really had seen a man with blue skin, dressed in black, and prowling the wilds of the west. Maybe he had, maybe it was the drink, but he had appeared completely convinced of what he had seen.

"Don't go gettin' worried now, missy." Ashby spoke up, bringing her back from her thoughts. What was with her lately? She had been getting caught up in so many thoughts lately, it must appear incredibly rude to just stare off into the distance and ponder things whilst somebody was trying to talk to you. She blushed brilliantly, and glanced up at him. "Them there's an old man who's had a long love affair with a mistress named Whiskey." he reassured her before smiling again. "If you let every man with a tale lead you astray you'll be all kinds of lost."

"I suppose you're right." she agreed, nodding her head. "Thank you, Mr. Ashby."

"Don't mention' it." he replied with another smile before moving on past the squabbling men, and vanished out of sight.

Roxanne settled back and placed her hands in her lap, sighing to herself. Surely cautionary tales weren't anything to truly believe in. If so, any child sucking their thumbs should have had them nipped off by a man with a pair of scissors. Seeing as how nobody lost their thumbs like that, it was obvious there was no basis in believing such things. Yet still she couldn't shake a niggling feeling at the back of her head, like a tiny voice, telling her not to be so quick to pass over the Blue Devil as if he weren't real no matter how ridiculous he sounded. How could a person be blue? Maybe it was an Indian covered in war paint, just trying to scare people? That was a possibility, those people tended to decorate their skin for war... why not for intimidation?

In fact that logical explanation made a lot more sense than believing there was a man with blue skin. Yet then, how would you explain the beasts and demons? Possibly cooked up thanks to Whiskey, if anything else. Yes. Roxanne nodded her head to herself before jumping since the train suddenly decided to let out a long, loud whistle that pierced the silence. Well, silence that didn't involve the shaking train or the people talking over each other. That meant they were nearing the station, yes, yes they were for it was slowly beginning to slow down. She smiled as the first signs of life finally came into view, that being fences made of wire and wood. Then there were the horses and the buildings tall and strong from the gold rush.

It was as dry as she had thought, since there was no sign of trees at all. The only way to seek shelter was underneath the verandas of the buildings and stores, meanwhile a huge water tower stood guard at the end of town. She could just see, if she squinted right, the cemetery over yonder where there stood wait... yes, the ONLY tree. It was big, black, and no doubt it had once been a 'hanging tree' before a proper gallows was erected. Roxanne swallowed, not wishing to linger on the thought of hanging people. It was a grisly affair and didn't particularly like reading or hearing about it, the way peoples feet would walk and their necks snap. Disgusting, just how people found it something worth watching was beyond her.

Finally the train came to a complete stop and those who were stopping got up and began to gather their bags and make their way to the exits. Roxanne took her time, picking up her hat and placing it upon her head and pinning it in place with her hat pin through her hair. She was just passing by the drunken grey man when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm. Startled, she yelped and tried pulling her hand away. "Excuse me!" she cried, more annoyed then scared.

"Don't git off the train." he said quietly, voice shaking with a fear one would not normally expect from a man of his age. "He'll snatch you up 'n cart you off to Hell. He'll do all manner of horrible things...!"

"Release me." Roxanne demanded, eyes narrowed as she pulled at her wrist again. "I am no weeping lily who'll allow silly stories fill my head!"

"It ain't no story!" he insisted, voice rising. "It's real as he is!"

It was here the conductor finally came along and managed to shake the old man off of her, apologizing profusely over any harm the old man may have inflicted. She hurried off, not wanting to spend any second longer with the crazed man. Stepping off of the train, finally, Roxanne blinked rapidly since the sun was harsher than she had anticipated. The air was hot and thick, almost choking her at first, but she coughed to clear her throat as she walked down the station to collect the rest of her valuables that consisted of only one more suitcase that had been too large to fit above her head or beneath her feet. As she walked those who were waiting for the train watched her cautiously, as if expecting the strange woman to do something... well. Strange. She did not, and once her bag was handed to her she thanked the station hand before walking on through the small red station and entered onto the main road.

Stores lined either side of the road, she saw a grocer, drugs, butcher, doctor, lawyer, the bank, the sheriff's office, jail house, and various other small stores. Beyond the main road there were the living areas, little houses and cottages, what have you. All of them rustic looking in appearance, well lived in and battered by the harsh weather of the desert. Looking to her left she spotted what she guessed was the schoolhouse though it looked very lacking in appearance. Frowning she walked towards it and stood outside it, and observed the writing scrawled on a sign that hung above the door, for frowned since they had written 'school' as 'Shool'.

"Well that's just plain sad." Roxanne observed.

Hearing a bit of a hubbub behind her Roxanne turned and saw a group of people, women, men, and young people hurrying over to a man she recognized from the train. Mr. Ashby was shaking hands with one of them, and she distinctly heard someone elate about him coming back home. It was obvious that Mr. Ashby was far more important to this town than he let on, and being the curious woman she was, Roxanne walked over to the group.

"How'd the big smoke treat ya, sir?" asked one young man.

"As well as a smoke can." replied Mr. Ashby. He turned to an older gentleman, smiling fondly beneath his bristled moustache. "How's my replacement, as good as I hear?"

"Oh Sheriff Scott is like a heaven sent!" replied the older man, lowering his monocle to wipe it on his dirty shirt and quickly replacing it. "Since he took over there's been no cattle rustlers or nuthin' ta speak of! Not that you didn't do yer best, Ashby. You were one of the best sheriff's our town's ever had."

A sheriff! Roxanne should have known! She watched as the people who had one relied on this man to keep the peace continued to welcome him back home and smiled faintly. Mr. Ashby caught her eye for a moment and nodded his head to her and she returned it. Then he actually reached out to her, "Folks I'd like ta introduce you to a fine young lady I met on the train comin' on out here." he said, and all heads turned to look at her. The woman in red stood out amongst the tans, blacks and off-whites of the clothing around her even more vibrantly than before, and she smiled meekly. "This here is Ms. Roxanne Ritchi, she'll be takin' over the ole' school house."

The younger children in the crowd whispered to each other suddenly, as if already planning on ways on how to avoid the classes that the woman would be setting up.

"Hello." Roxanne greeted, standing taller and pulling her shoulders back. "It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"Train ride was Hell weren't it?" asked a man, to which she smiled and nodded.

"Fairly bumpy." she admitted, though choosing not to tell him how sore her rear was. "But worth it all I must say. It's a lovely town you have out here." she complimented, since it was true. The town was the very image of 'western living' that she had read about in books and in the newspapers. Such a striking contrasts to her uptown upbringing from back home. "Now if one of you will be so kind as to point me in the direction of where I'll be living...?" Roxanne asked.

"Oh, you'll be havin' the quarters behind the school house." explained an older lady with thin brown hair. "Here, I'll show you." Thanking her, Roxanne followed the woman. "I used to be the school teacher before things went... well. South." she said with a small smile. "There was just a drop in births 'round here so there weren't no point in keepin' the school open. That, 'n with the money dryin' up most of the families plum left. It was awful sad." the woman explained before suddenly realizing her manners and laughed nervously. "Oh my listen to me, goin' on and I haven't even introduced myself. My name's Jane. Jane Doe."

Roxanne smiled and shook her hand, "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Doe."

"Mrs. Doe, thank you." corrected Jane, to which Roxanne apologized. "And yourself? Got yourself a husband?" she asked.

"No, I'm afraid not." Roxanne replied as she followed Mrs. Doe around the school house to a small regular house that seemed as neglected as the school was. Seemed she had her work set out for her. "I never took a husband back home... I was more concerned in my career in teaching children then to take off with a man and leave the children uneducated."

"Mighty fine thing to do, puttin' the lil' ones ahead of yourself like that." Mrs. Doe commented with a smile. "Though you do realize word will get around of you being unmarried and all manner of young men may come courting you."

"Well I hope for their sake they put that time and effort to better use. I really have no interest in it all." Roxanne replied simply as Mrs. Doe unlocked the front door to the house and pushed it open. Inside was a simple affair. A large main room where one prepare food at the stove, eat at the little table, read in a chair covered in dust... and through a single door was where the bedroom lay. Roxanne walked in and examined the place, and ran a finger along the table and saw just how caked it was with dust. "Bit of a fixer upper but nothing I can't handle." she smiled, turning to Mrs. Doe. "And after I've cleaned this place, I'm going to start work on that poor school house."

"You certainly got a lot of enthusiasm, that's good. You'll be needin' it! And a wrangler." added Mrs. Doe as she handed over the keys to both the house, and the schoolhouse.

"Wrangler?" Roxanne asked.

"The lil' ones will hardly wanna take up classes after a life time of not havin' to attend. You'll be needin' someone to hog tie them up and bring em in!" Mrs. Doe joked, laughing afterwards with a merry, tinny laugh that somehow irritated Roxanne. As nice as this woman was, she just couldn't shake the feeling it had been partly her own fault that the children had gone so long without an education. What kind of teacher just gives up? But she dare not say this to the woman's face, at least not now.

"Hmm. Well, time will tell. Thank you again Mrs. Doe, but I best start getting this place looking respectable." Roxanne said as she glanced around the small living space again which, back home, measured the size of their bathroom.

"Of course!" Mrs. Doe exclaimed, welcoming Roxanne once again and informed her that she would let those important folk in town know the new teacher was in town and they would throw a welcome gala for her. Which, for Roxanne, sounded awfully nice. A party, for her? She had had a going away party back home, where her family and friends had come to wish her luck out west but receiving one upon arrival hadn't been on the agenda.

Presently, though, the agenda called for cleaning. Once she had bought some soap and such from the local store, and grabbing herself a bucket and mop she made sure the blinds were closed before she removed her red dress, leaving her in her under garments composing of her pantaloons, boots, corset and under shirt. She then got down to cleaning, mopping, dusting, cleaning, and straightening things out. The layers of dust made her choke, and she had to open a few windows but had been quick to do it in case anyone would happen to see her bare skin from outside. That was the last thing she needed, to be listed as a floozy for showing some skin.

Pulling on some more friendlier work clothes, some overalls and one of her father's old shirts, Roxanne moved her cleaning duties outside so she could wash the windows, and wipe down the wood and basically spruce up the place.

"I'm gonna need a coat of paint for you... and you..." she mused once it was all over with, looking over the poor school house. Roxanne shuddered to think what it was like inside, probably just as if not worse than her house was. But that was a job for tomorrow, since the sun was beginning to dip in the horizon and she had still so much more to do. Dressing properly once more, Roxanne made her way to the general store where she bought some proper sheets and bedding, basic goods to see her through the next day (milk, bread, eggs, beans, tea etc) before returning to her new home.

After making herself a decent little meal of toast and eggs, Roxanne got changed for bed. Slipping into her nightgown she climbed into bed and lay there, and took a deep breath. So far things seemed do-able. Her home was now clean, spick and span. Tomorrow she would have to go and visit the general store again and ask if they could order in some red paint, or maybe ask around town to see if anyone had a spare can laying around that she could buy off them for a few dollars. Speaking of dollars, Roxanne had hidden her purse full of money within her mattress. No way would she walk around with hundreds on her person that was just asking for trouble. While she highly doubted there were pick pockets out here, she still didn't want to run the risk of loosing her purse and with it all her money.

To telegraph her parents for help so soon would be an embarrassing affair.

Blowing out her night candle Roxanne finally settled down to get some well deserved sleep, and it wasn't long until she was indeed dreaming sweet dreams of red school houses, and blue men standing outside the windows looking in. The black he was wrapped in seemed to unravel, and began to slowly envelope the entire world. Roxanne was not afraid, in her dream, for instead she stood her ground and faced on the man, the Devil. Just as his blue, bloodied hand was reaching for her there were gun shots and the black evaporated.

The gun shots rang out again, and Roxanne sat up in her bed, eyes wide. Those guns weren't from her dreams, but coming from outside in the town somewhere! She was sure of it! Grabbing a candle she quickly lit it, and hurried to the front room and pulled back a blind to see outside. Of course, living behind the school house hindered her vision of the main road something awful but she could certainly hear a whole lot of talking and shouting. Were they rustlers? Or maybe just passer bys, needing a drink from the local saloon? Whatever they were, they were being awfully loud. Judging by how high the moon was, it was terribly late.

"…sa sheriff!" said a voice, amongst all the rambling, and Roxanne tried desperately to watch as another figure walked by (of what she could see) and she saw a striking white color. The sheriff was clad in white? That would be all but impossible to keep clean out here.

Roxanne strained to hear but it seemed the time for talking was over. The sheriff was doing his duty it seemed for it wasn't long until she heard the clambering of horse hooves as a few horses, possibly with or without riders, took off into the night. There was muffled cheers and talking, and it was obvious the sheriff had seen them off. So who was this, was this the Sheriff Scott that she had heard briefly about the day before? The one who took over when Mr. Ashby had left the town? Quite possibly.

To see off a good half dozen men who had obviously drank too much and had been using their weapons at the wrong time showed how strong, or intimidating, this man was. Roxanne decided, as she made her way back to her bed to get back to sleep so she could have an early start with the roosters, was that she would meet this man in white and find out what he was like. It was important to know everyone important in your new town, after all. She would also have to stop by the doctor and introduce herself and retell her family medical history, along with the drug store runner to make sure he had bandaids and such for when the children would no doubt get hurt when playing rough.

"So much to do." she sighed as she climbed back into bed, blowing out her candle for the second time that night. "So little time." Roxanne added before getting back down into bed and shut her eyes.

The next morning Roxanne had her morning routine of washing, and dressing herself before enjoying a breakfast of more toast and eggs along with a cup of tea. Grabbing a few notes of money from her mattress, she set out into the town in the early morning. She hadn't realized just how early it was, since the sun was just beginning to peek up from across the horizon. The sky was a beautiful inky black color, except for the orange red that came first before the sun. "Red sky... blood was shed last night." she echoed her father's old tale, which she guessed was right every morning since blood was being spilled everywhere at some point or another.

One thing that didn't surprise her was seeing how many folks were awake this early. It appeared today was market day, for there were stalls being erected along the main street. Farmers who had stayed on were peddling their wares and there were all manner of things she didn't expect. Tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, even some lettuces and parsley. Then there was the butches, with their freshly killed and drained chickens, rabbits, and cow.

"Well good morning to you, Ms. Ritchi." greeted the butcher who seemed to know her name before she knew his own.

"Good morning, sir." she replied, "Your name?"

"Gary J. Thompson, local butcher." he replied, tipping his hat to her though it was a small white one that was strapped tightly to his head so no hair got on the meat. "Can I interest you in a chicken? Nothing like a good chicken roast to fill your belly." he grinned.

"Oh, no thank you Mr. Thompson," Roxanne smiled. "I need to get about cleaning my school house and a chicken is going to be no help at all."

"If you say so Ms. Ritchi, though I think a good feed will prepare you for such a big task." he replied, to which she agreed but knew where her money was going today. Paint, and supplies for the school. Making her way past the rest of the stalls she finally found the general store again and was about to go in when something gave her pause.

Across the way was the Sheriff's office. Curiosity got the better of her, and she walked across the road to step up onto its veranda. An old dog slept lazily on the steps, alongside a younger one. Both gave her a queer look as she walked up but they didn't growl, or bark, despite her being a new person. They could probably easily tell she was no threat to either of them, showing how smart a dog could be. She smiled, before glancing up at wanted signs that lined the front of the office.

Many of them had big red marks through them, showing that the bounties had been collected. Angry looking men stared out at her, and a few luscious looking beauties too, wanted for laundering money and killing men. Tsking she kept reading, until she stopped short on one poster which gave her pause. It was a sketch of someone as if they hadn't been rightly seen. The dominant color was black, going from the hat on the persons head to a high collar that blocked vision of most of the face while a poncho covered the rest. The man, for she guessed that's what it was, was looking over his shoulder as if glaring at the reader of the poster.

"Wanted." she read on the sign, "For murder, cattle rustling, sheep rustling, robbery, trafficking illegal substances, disturbing the peace, resisting arrest and petty larceny." Roxanne looked at the reward, which was $10,000 now but it seemed to have been previous amounts too. She could make out the painted over amounts of $500, $800, $8,000 and various other numbers that obviously had been painted over with a new amount covering them. How quickly this man, whatever his name, had risen in rank and in amount owed for his arrest or death.

"Admiring the peanut gallery, lil' lady?" the voice surprised Roxanne and she jumped, despite herself, and looked up to find a tower of a man standing over her. Judging by the gold star badge on his chest, this was the sheriff since it was even more obvious because he was wearing white from head to foot. A five-gallon hat sat upon his head, white as clouds, and everything from the neck down, including his vest, belts and boots, were white. Just how in the name of mayflowers did you stay white in a desert? "Pardon me," he said with a deep, sombre tone, "didn't mean to startle you."

"Then you shouldn't walk up behind ladies and talk." Roxanne replied curtly, not at all bedazzled by his charming good looks, warm smile, or perfect hair that poked out from beneath his hat.

"True enough." he replied with a warm chuckle before folding his arms, causing the white fabric to tug since his biceps were larger than any Roxanne had laid eyes on before, and she had once snuck into a boxing tournament to watch the men strike each other. Those men had been mountains, yet this sheriff dwarfed them with his thumb. "Name's Sheriff Scott, Wayne Scott. And what might your name be?" he asked.

"Ms. Roxanne Ritchi." she replied, and was a little touched when he reached, took her hand and kissed the back of it. "Thank you. I'm the new teacher here. Your school house is certainly in some disrepair." Roxanne commented.

"Hah hah, don't I know it." he laughed, tilting his hat back so he could look down at her without interference. "Unfortunately it was hardly my right to round up kids and set them in that house without a teacher." Sheriff Scott admitted.

Roxanne wanted to say that yes, it was his right since he was the sheriff and he had to look out for everyone in this town, under his protection no matter how mundane or foolish it seemed. But she said nothing, instead choosing to smile softly. "Children can hardly teach themselves reading, writing, and arithmetic." she agreed. "Was the school house open when you were a boy, Sheriff Scott?" she asked.

"Oh yes. Mrs. Doe, who was a Ms. Peacock back then, was my tutor. Taught me the basics and set me off on the road which led to me becoming sheriff of this town." he grinned before lifting his head and nodded to somebody who had greeted him. "Course I stared as a deputy under Mr. Ashby, back when he had this job. Good man, good teacher, damn fine good lawman."

"Yes he is a nice man." Roxanne replied before turning, and pointing to the picture that had caught her interest. "I am curious though. I heard tale that the Devil walks these lands and has been known to rob a man blind before shooting him with his own pistol. On top of that, I hear he also rides a horse not of this world and is accompanied by beasts and demons. Is this him?" she asked.

"Don't miss out on much do you?" Sheriff Scott asked with a smile. "Yes, that's him. He's known as Blue Devil 'round here, though while I know he strikes an intimidatin' image he ain't the real Devil. He's just a man. A horribly disfigured, twisted man raised by sucklin' on evil's teet and is just as black as the clothes he wears."

"Is he truly blue?" she asked.

"War paint." scoffed the sheriff, "Nothin' else. But get the story of the devil paradin' around town and soon everyone believes the myth rather than fact. He," he pointed to the picture, "Is a thorn in my side and has been since before I even took up position of Sheriff. You best be careful, Ms. Ritchi. For I'd hate for you to get caught up in things."

"Caught up in things." Roxanne echoed the phrase, frowning slightly. "How so?"

"Best you don't know." he replied, "Though I will say one thing. Don't go out after dark unattended by someone."

"Do I look the type of woman who would wander the streets alone, and after dark?" she asked, narrowing an eye slightly. "I may be new to your town, sheriff, but my mother didn't raise no dummy. My main concern is the education of these children in your town who, from the looks of things, have been very lacking. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy some paint to spruce up my school house."

"Course miss, course." Sheriff Scott replied, taking a step back and lifting his hands. "Meant no harm or disrespect to you. Just my job ta look out for those in my town."

"Yes of course it is." Roxanne replied, the edge in her voice softening if just a little bit. "I apologize for my outburst. That was unheard of, and rude."

"None taken. By all rights ya said the right thing." he smiled before taking another step back and gesturing back to the main streets. "You have yourself a good day Ms. Ritchi, and I'll be seein' ya 'round town won't I?"

"I guess you will." she smiled and curtseyed for him slightly before walking off and away from the office and heading back towards the general store. Well, the man seemed nice enough though he was awfully dim at times. His heart was in the right place though, telling her to be mindful; as if she'd be anything but! It was as if he expected her to go waltzing off into the dark, as if inviting trouble and danger to come peek up her skirts.

Turned out luck was in her shadow today, for the general store had two tins of red paint on hand. Purchasing them, and a brush, Roxanne returned to her schoolhouse and set to work. First things were first though, she had to open up the schoolhouse and have a look at the damage. Unlocking the door she pushed it open and peered into the single roomed house and groaned in irritation. Spider webs clogged the ceiling area of the room, as well as on the small writing desks that lined the middle of the room in rows of four. The inner walls were dusty as well, as was the floor.

"Darn it." Roxanne sighed, found herself a kerchief and tied it around her mouth before grabbing her mop and bucket and headed in to start cleaning it all out. Some people passed by the school house, and many a child stopped to watch the woman in overalls taking out the chairs and desks in order to clean them. Once a large spider had jumped out of a school desk, making Roxanne squeak in surprise, before she smashed it under her boot. Ugly little things, spiders, she hated them something awful. It took her over two hours to clean out the school house from the inside out, having dusted away all the horrible spider webs, dust, and signs of neglect.

"I'm going to need a new desk." she mumbled as she touched the old one that sat at the front of the class. It looked awfully old, and it was a splintery nightmare. Roxanne would need some assistance taking it out, no doubt, and finding another one out here might be tricky. Then again, who said she needed a desk? She could walk, and talk, and sit at a simple chair while teaching without a desk. On the other hand though she had all those books and such, all the chalk, and blackboards for the children to use.

"Knock knock!" came a familiar tone from the cracked door, and she stood up quickly. "Anyone home?" it was the Sheriff.

"Hmm. Yes!" she replied and smiled faintly as the man in white appeared in the door way before realizing what a mess she must look like. Strands of her hair were sticking out, no doubt she'd have dust sticking to her if not a few remains of spider webs. Quickly she pushed a loose strand behind her ear, and wondered just why she'd had allowed him inside in the first place. "Hello again, Sheriff Scott."

"Wow, amazing. Look at all the work you done." he admired, looking around the room. "Almost lookin' good as new."

"I still need to re-write that horrible sign outside and paint the walls." Roxanne pointed out, "So it isn't looking that good as new yet."

"Granted even with that needin' doin', it looks amazin'. Oh, here." he walked forwards and held out a red apple to her. "Figured a teacher needs an apple, right?"

Roxanne looked at the apple and wondered just where he had gotten it from. There had been no apples for sale at the stalls when she had walked past, unsurprisingly since there weren't any apple trees out here. Did he have a tree for himself? Or maybe a travelling merchant had just passed through with some? But they'd be at least three days old and this apple looked crisp, rosy and fresh. Smiling either way she took the apple from him. "Thank you, that's awfully kind of you."

He smiled. "Well I best leave you to your work..."

"Oh wait," Roxanne started after him since he had begun to turn to leave. "I could need a little bit of assistance. The desk, it's far too old to be of use any more and it would probably better suit on a bonfire somewhere than in here."

"Ah! I get you." he said with a charming wink. She stood back and watched as he hefted the desk up slightly and dragged it outside. Even though it still looked like quite the job, he did it alone, and without any fuss. My, the boys out here were a strong type it seemed. Sheriff Scott threw the desk outside to rid himself of its weight and cleaned his hands on themselves. "Anythin' else I can do for you?" Sheriff Scott asked, turning back to the lady.

"No, but thank you very much for your help. I doubt I would have been able to do that myself." Roxanne smiled, still clutching the apple in her hands.

"Happy to oblige little lady. Now I'll get out from under ya feet 'n let ya get back to your school house." he nodded his head, tilted his hat, before grabbing the desk again and began dragging it off through the main street.

Roxanne watched him go before taking a bite out of her apple and gasped, it was so fresh! Maybe it had been suspended in water to keep it so fresh? That was probably it. She quickly ate the apple, having forgotten just how hungry she had felt what with all the work going on. Once she had finished off the apple, she began the long task of painting the schoolhouse. Even more evidence of her lucky streak was back, since the fact it was a calm day. No wind, no dust to get in her paint at all. She hummed to herself as she worked, since she found it helped time tick by just a little bit quicker when she had a song in her head. Stopping for drinks and quick talks with some locals wanting to meet the new school teacher, Roxanne managed to get the whole building painted a rich, glossy, warm red color before three in the afternoon.

She had even re-written the sign for the school, spelling it out fully, and adding her name beneath the word 'School' to emphasize what her position in the the won was.

"Pardon me, Ms. Ritchi?" a new voice, accompanied by a new face, spoke and Roxanne turned to meet the new person. It was a young boy, no older than ten at least, and he was holding his brown tattered hat in his hands. "Howdy Ms. Ritchi, don't mean to be botherin' you none but I done heard you're in need of a new desk?"

"Word certainly travels fast in this town." Roxanne commented with a smile before nodding. "I do indeed."

"Thought y'all better know my pappy's got a big ole' desk we dun need anymore at our ranch out east. S'a bit of a way, 'n you'd need at least two horse 'n a carriage ta get there 'n bring the desk back..."

Roxanne frowned slightly, before glancing around the town.

"If'n you're figurein' where ta get a pair of horses 'n a cart I'm sure Mr. Jenkins at the stables could lend ya 'em." added the little boy.

She smiled and looked back down at him. "And what is your name, young man?"

"Damien." he replied quickly, flushing since he'd realize how rude it was to not introduce himself to the woman who would no doubt become his teacher. "Damien Jamieson."

"Well young Mr. Jamieson thank you kindly for the help. Think you could let your 'pappy' know that I'm interested in purchasing the desk from him, how much he would require, and when I would be able to collect?" she asked.

"Course!" Damien replied before tugging his hat back on, grinned at her, and ran off. She watched as he approached a big black horse that was carrying a cart. His father, obviously, was at the reins. They must have come in to sell their wares at the stalls, since there were crates that had names of vegetables upon them but they were mostly empty. Damien climbed onto the back of the cart just as his father cracked the reigns and the huge horse neighed and started off eastward bound, going home. The little boy waved to Roxanne as they drove past, and she waved back.

Looking back down the main road Roxanne couldn't help but notice how suddenly empty the place appeared. All the stalls were gone, and there were no people in sight. Looking up at the sun she realized it would be at least some time around four in the afternoon, people were probably enjoying their evening meals at least... but it did seem a tad early. That's when she spotted something left in the middle of the main road, a crate. "Huh?" she said aloud before walking out to it, and stopped by the crate and peered inside. Within the brown crate were at least half a dozen bottles of alcohol accompanying various fruits, vegetables, meat and bread. "What the...? Did anyone forget their purchases today?" Roxanne asked herself, before standing up and had just begun to pick up the crate when the sun suddenly went out.

Things became incredibly still, even the crows cawing in the distance seemed to zip their beaks as a tingling sensation rippled through the air. Roxanne turned and gasped, thankful she hadn't lifted the crate since no doubt she would have dropped it. Thick, black smoke was pouring out of... somewhere, but it was thundering towards the town as if coming from Hell itself. Roxanne, normally a level headed young woman who kept together during stressful situations found herself rooted to the spot. This couldn't be happening, could it? She remembered the grey man on the train, speaking of steam and smoke surrounding the Devil wherever he went. But Sheriff Scott had told her that he was just a man! How could the two of them be right, unless the Sheriff had lied to her face. The idea alarmed her, but not so much as when she saw two figures riding out of the black haze.

The horse was shining, and its eyes were blood red and glowing, sending shards of light piercing through the darkness like a knife cutting through butter. Its hooves were metallic and black, and made an awful noise as they struck the hard ground underfoot. The mane and tail was black, long, and she was certain around its hooves were rings covered in spikes. Yet it didn't look alive, not at all. Like... a tin toy, played with by a little boy but now the size of a fully-grown horse. Its rider though, she had seen before. It was the same man she had seen drawn on that poster, only this time he wasn't looking over his shoulder, he was looking dead ahead as the horse continued its course. A huge, wide brimmed hat covered his head and a black kerchief with silver lightning bolts covered his face from the nose down. There was the large collar, and the black poncho that was being knocked back by the wind and the speed of the horse revealing the black vest, long sleeves, gloved hands... everything was black.

She gasped as the horse came to a grinding halt in front of her, mere inches separating her from the metal beasts nose. Sudden jets of steam erupted from its nose and she jumped back, shrieking as she did. It even moved like a real horse, shaking its head with the girdle in its mouth, though it was welded into place, totally irremovable.

Blue Devil, since it was him, slowly tilted his hat back to reveal striking green eyes. Roxanne had never seen such a vibrant green in all her life, not even in the paintings that her mother had hanging in their house back home. It was like spring, only powered one hundred times more vibrant than possible. And the skin, at least the skin she could see peeking out from under the back of his hat and kerchief, was blue as the sky. The gray man hadn't lied at all. He suddenly chuckled, as if remembering a joke, and it was a deep, low, evil kind of thing that sent shivers up her spine. Suddenly he turned and gestured to the second rider she hadn't even had a good look at.

"New blood I think." he said, voice surprisingly not as deep as she would have thought it to be, though it was muffled by the kerchief.

"Obviously, sir." replied the second voice. Roxanne finally tore her eyes away from the Blue Devil to look at his counterpart, who had ridden along behind and to the side of him the entire time. Her eyes widened with horror as she saw the beast besides the man, riding a horse that was a spitting duplicate of the one Blue Devil rode. This man... this wasn't a man. It was like a monster from a story book only far more horrifying. The body was metallic. It had joints and clogs, gears and wires stringing the body together. The body itself looked like any ordinary man, though it had fur of a buffalo stuck to it in places, giving it an appearance of an animal, or a cowboy who liked wearing skins. Its hands were thick and grey, knuckles made of bolts and nails made of copper. But it was the head of the... the beast that scared her most. Instead of a head like a regular man, there was a dome like the kind she saw precious things kept inside of. Only instead of an expensive porcelain doll, or a gold clock, hidden away under the dome was a fish.

A green, glowing and talking fish. She continued to stare, mouth agape, until the Blue Devil spoke up again. "You know in most circles it's considered _rude_ to stare." he said calmly, though there was a hint of irritation to his voice as he spoke.

This was all too much for the young woman, and despite her best attempts, she fainted. She struck the ground, kicking up dust as she did, leaving the two outlaws staring down at her.

"I hate it when they do that." sighed the fish, climbing off of his horse revealing his back. If she had been awake she would have seen all manner of mechanisms attached to him. It was like somebody had gutted a clock, put it all back together, and set it on the back of his body. There was a long pipe coming out from the very centre of his back, which had thin grey smoke slowly emitting from it. Not enough to cause all the smoke that surrounded them, no. That came from the horses, who kicked out a lot of power and exhaust. Their pipes were coming from the hips of the beasts, which were now still and waiting.

"Honestly Minion," Blue Devil said as he leaned forward on his horse, watching as the mechanical fish bent to pick up the crate. "What'd you expect, a greeting?" he asked. "Let's just collect our food and get out of here before that stupid Sheriff thinks we intend to do ievil/i things to this young woman here." he said, unable to help but look at the fallen lady. She was pretty, in a plain kind of way. Those overalls did nothing for her, but her freckles upon her face were a nice little addition as was the beauty spot on her chin. "Wonder why she's out here. I don't remember seeing her before."

"You would if you had, Sir." Minion replied as he strapped the crate to the back of the horse, snapping it into place with locks before climbing back onto the horse.

"Of course." Blue Devil chuckled before suddenly yanking on the metal horses reigns, and the beast backed up onto its hind legs and let out a whiney that sounded like a tin can being ripped in two by a saw. "H'YAH!" he screamed and the horse spun on its hooves and took off back West where they had come from. Minion's horse did the same but not nearly as fancy, since he was carrying the crate of food that was left out for them every Wednesday. The two horses, their riders, and the grey smoke was soon gone from the town, leaving Ms. Ritchi where she had fallen. It was only once the whole place was clear did people suddenly come rushing out of their homes, and stalls, to hurry to the young woman's aide.

"Oh mercy, mercy!" Mrs. Doe tutted as she watched as the doctor checked her over. "Didn't anyone warn her of what happens Wednesdays?"

"I thought you had!" said another man.

"No, I thought you did!" cried Mr. Jenkins.

"Oh the poor love!" lamented another woman.

"She's fine." the doctor said as he put his arms under her in order to lift her. "Just stunned. Best get her to my surgery either way, let her lay down 'n get some rest. Best somebody explain to her what's goin' on..."

"I can." Mr. Ashby spoke up, walking up to the group. "S'my fault this happens anyway."

"Ain't no fault of yours, Mr. Ashby." Mr. Jenkins said, "It's thanks to you the Devil don't come into town every day stealin' souls 'n killin' folk." those around him agreed readily, nodding.

"Hn." Mr. Ashby grunted and he followed along with the doctor, taking Roxanne to his surgery where the woman would be tended to, forehead wiped and cleaned with a wet rag and given some water. Hopefully she wouldn't be out of it too long, but it wasn't every day a young educated woman came across creatures that defied logic, along with a talking green fish in a steam powered suit. That's something you just don't read about.


	2. Chapter 2

"C'mon little missy... give a lil' smellin' salts that'll do you good..." the voice Roxanne could hear was an unfamiliar one, though he sounded old and well experienced with this. The first thing she truly grew aware of was the cool sheets beneath her, and the smell of rubbing alcohol in the air. Smelled like a doctor's office, and despite the throb she had at the back of her head from where she had fainted she forced her eyes open slowly. That's when a small bottle was suddenly placed beneath her nose and she took in a great big whiff of smelling salts. It watered her eyes and had all the hair on the back of her neck stand on end drastically.

"Gah!" she cried, sitting up and causing the good doctor to jump back in surprise as well.

"Well that certainly worked!" he grinned, recorking the tiny bottle and getting up off of his seat to make his way over to a small cabinet which had all manner of different sized bottles and liquids held within. "How ya feelin' Miss Ritchi?" he asked.

Roxanne was unable to reply, since her eyes were still watering from the strength of the smelling salts. Mr. Ashby, who had been standing in the door way walked in and handed her a small bottle from under his vest. "Here, take a small swig. It'll clear the senses." he explained and she did just that, took a tiny mouthful and swallowed the rich tasting alcohol. She made a face of disgust, since it was really strong stuff. "Hah, yeah I know. S'why I said take a lil' bit."

"Thank you." she wheezed, bringing up a hand to wipe at the corners of her mouth. Roxanne settled back down against the bed and looked at herself, wearing the overalls and shirt that was splattered with bits of red paint. Seeing the bright red primary color it suddenly unleashed the bright memory and reason why she had just collapsed outside. She turned her head to look sharply at Mr. Ashby, eyes wide. "That man, that man outside...!"

"Calm yerself," Mr. Ashby said calmly as he took up the place the good doctor had been sitting and crossed his legs, resting his left ankle upon his right knee. "he's gone. Y'all gotta understand, every Wednesday he rides on into town where we leave him an offerin' of food 'n drink. He takes it, and leaves, 'n don't cause no trouble for us. It took me a good long time to reach that kinda deal with him, years back, before I left."

"B... but that man, he's done horrible things! Murder, robbery, setting things alight... can't you just go after him 'n shoot him?" Roxanne asked, eyes narrowed. "He's a threat to this town, its people and the children!"

Mr. Ashby lifted his hands, calling for calm and silence that she happily gave him if he could explain himself. "Better men than me have tried ta reach the man. He's holed up in a cavern West of here, 'n he's got guards posted. Not men, not women, but beasts. Horrible things that can rip a man's arm clear off 'n beat him to death with it. No bullet'll hurt 'em. They lay their lives on the line for him, 'n don't allow nobody ta go through that ain't no companion of his. And he ain't got many companions. You saw the fish, yes?"

Roxanne glanced outside the window to her right, looking out over the town. The light was quickly fading, and the saloon's lights were spilling out onto the main street and she could see shadows of people making merry within. They weren't afraid, or at least, if they were they did a good job hiding it. "I did." she confirmed, remembering that... creature which had been accompanying the Blue Devil. Metal, fur, glass, water and a fish... a horrific combination if ever she saw one, and on top of that it could speak English like any normal person! Turning to look back at Mr. Ashby she tilted her head faintly. "Where did they come from?" she asked.

"There's many stories as to where they came from." Mr. Ashby replied quietly. "Some folk believe he's the Devil himself, walking this land, stealing souls 'n killin' men. Some feel he's just a demon fresh from the pits of Hell, spat out for bein' monsters amongst the twisted beasts at Satan's command, let free to do as they please. There's even a small percent feelin' as though Blue Devil's but a twisted freak, seeking solace with creatures as twisted as him." he turned his head to stare out of the window, at the night sky. "...'n some believe he fell out of the skies in blazing fire and set the sky itself alight with his arrival. Not from Heaven, but from... somewhere else."

"Somewhere else?" Roxanne asked, turning her head to look back to the world outside where the night sky was quickly overpowering the bright blue and banishing the sun from the sky. "Somewhere like what?"

"Can't say for sure." Mr. Ashby replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "The Moon, maybe?"

"The moon. So he isn't even a human being?" she asked, looking back to Mr. Ashby.

"If you believe that theory of him a fallin' outta the sky." shrugged the ex-Sheriff. "Fact is there's so many questions 'n no answers he's willin' ta answer. He don't let nobody get too close."

"But you did." Roxanne countered, narrowing her eye at him suspiciously. "You managed to talk him into agreeing to only enter town once a week, to not kill anybody, gather his food and leave. You must have gotten close to him."

"Quick. I like that." smiled the old man. "Yes. It's true, I did manage ta get him talkin' once. It weren't easy. Rather not go into the details myself but I talked him into the agreement. We don't go after him, we don't try ta get him, 'n he promises ta keep clear of us. Even our new Sheriff obeys that rule."

"But Sheriff Scott seems legit, he could tackle that Blue Devil no problem." Roxanne said sternly, "He should head out with a posse!"

"Miss. Ritchi I understand your disappointment at how we handle things out here," Mr. Ashby said as he set both his feet on the floor, his spurs clinking as he did. "But y'all gotta understand. Blue Devil's got them metal demons with him, 'n they're all capable'a shootin' folks. He could level this entire town in an evenin' if he was so inclined. Thing is, he ain't. Now I know you feel wronged, that you plum fainted at the sighta' him 'n his fish but we ain't going to risk the lives of everyone in this town just so you can have peace of mind. You want advice, on how ta manage? Don't go West. That's his territory."

Roxanne frowned at the man, before swinging her legs off of the bed so she stood up. "I didn't realize the West was full of people willing to bend to the wishes of a vagabond with blue skin." she said stiffly.

Mr. Ashby was suddenly to his feet, towering over her, but she stubbornly kept her ground and refused to back away or sit back down on the bed. "Listen here, Miss. Ritchi. I know you're new. I know you're a young woman. But go dissin' my town 'n my arrangements before 'n I might forget those facts."

"I understand." she said firmly before walking around him and made her way out of the room. Roxanne nodded her head to the doctor who was sitting at a desk, "Thank you kindly for your help." Roxanne said before opening the doors and made her way down the steps. Instead of going home though, she continued through to the saloon.

She had paused outside of the saloon at first, well aware that women who weren't selling themselves within were barred from entering. Yet as she hovered nervously outside the front she spotted, through the window, a circle of ordinary women from the town sitting in a corner talking to each other. It seemed this sort of place wasn't as rough, or strict, as one would might have assumed so. Thankful for this slight change in her plan, and realizing that she could indeed get a drink, Roxanne walked on in.

Inside the saloon it seemed as though everyone in town was in there, and it smelt of it too, the strong rich musky scent of alcohol and the sweat of men. Men of various ages, heights and sizes sat around small round grubby tables playing cards and betting who knew what. In the corner was a piano in which a skinny young thing was playing away a merry little tune she couldn't place, and she spotted a few empty glasses lining the top of the standing piano. There was even a stage but it was empty right now, the rich red curtains drawn and baron. Across from the stage were the steps which led upstairs to where the more unsavoury parts of the saloon took place, made even more obvious by the number of women who stood along the stair ways.

They were beautiful as they were ugly. Their faces made up with thick make up, bodices done up tight to make their bosoms appear far more bigger than they really were. One of them, a large shapely woman, had a cigar in her teeth and she gave Roxanne a judging look. Two other women who were standing together opened their fans and whispered to one another, no doubt making judging comments about the woman from up North.

"Well howdy Miss. Ritchi!" greeted the general store clerk, looking quite different without his apron and arm wraps on. "You took a nasty tumble out there, you doin' all right?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you." she replied before turning her attention to the bar man.

He was a lanky man, obviously not one who was born in the town since he appeared almost clean in comparison to those who visited the saloon. Upon his nose were small round spectacles, and his dull golden brown eyes stared down at the glass which he was cleaning with a rag. His hair was a dusty brown and he had obviously attempted to comb it flat with some oils but, stubbornly, the hair had decided to spring back up and point in various locations. His clothing was a tan vest over a blue shirt, and tan brown trousers to match his vest. Feeling eyes upon him he blinked, slowly, and lifted his gaze to look at her.

Heaving a sigh of somebody who was obviously bothered with the affairs of the world that surrounded him, he leaned forward onto the bar top. "What will it be?" he asked, and Roxanne was a little startled at just how dry and dull his voice sounded.

"...oh, uh. Gin and tonic, please." she said.

"Gin and tonic." he echoed as he went about to make her drink. "You're that new school teacher, aren't you?" he asked though he sounded as though he was hardly interested at all in what she had to say.

"Yes. Miss. Roxanne Ritchi. And what shall I call you?" she asked, irritated at how everyone in town appeared to know her name. How fast did gossip in this place fly anyway? It was quite unsettling.

"Bernard." he introduced himself as he poured her drink, and set it on the bar top by her hand. "First drink is free. Don't get used to the hospitality."

That was hospitality? Roxanne gave him a warm smile though in thanks and took the drink. "Forgive me for prying but you're obviously not from around here."

"And proud of it." Bernard replied as he started gathering up empty glasses that had been abandoned on the top. "I came from New York, myself. Your accent, you're a little bit more North then me."

"Hmm." she nodded before taking a small sip of her glass. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to not pick up the accent." he said, "My father died, and seeing how his brother had a business out here my mother shipped me out here to learn. He died a few years back, so I took over the business. This is it." Bernard gestured to the entire bar.

"You own this entire place?" she asked, amazed that someone so young could be so well off and so quickly.

"Like I said." Bernard said as he began cleaning the dirty glasses, "Not by choice."

"And. Hm." Roxanne pointed to one of the women in a tight corset and dress, stockings exposed, and talking to an obviously drunk man. "What about those, are they part of the 'perks' in this industry?" she asked.

Bernard shook his head. "They pay a fee to me to be able to use my locale but that's all I see. Everything else they... ahem. Earn is their business. The money they give me goes towards paying the entertainment."

"So it all works out?" she asked.

"As well as it can out here." observed Bernard. "Heard you had a run in with Blue Devil."

"Word travels fast." Roxanne said sourly.

He chuckled, though it hardly seemed a cheery one. "These people don't have much to talk about," Bernard said as one old gentleman in the corner began to slowly blow on a harmonica on account of the pianist having slumped over drunk on his keys. "So you'll have to grin and bear with them talking about you. The schoolhouse looks good. I haven't seen it looking so decent since before Mrs. Doe went and got married."

"The Education Board still should have sent out a replacement." Roxanne said sternly before taking another sip of her gin and tonic.

"Should have, would have, but didn't." Bernard sighed.

"Scotch, Bern." said a man as he approached the bar, slumping against it and smelling like he'd been riding on a horse for over a week. Judging from the looks of him, he most probably had. Caked with dust and sweat he was, his leather vest and denim jeans stank and seemed to be glued to his body rather than just hanging off of it.

"Coming right up." Bernard replied.

Roxanne turned and took in the sight of the saloon. Men continued to play poker, women spoke with one another at particular tables and the younger folk were playing darts or pool. Life out here was a simple affair, it seemed, and she found that comforting. Even though that nagging knowledge of a wanted killer living just West of them all put her slightly on edge. What if he decided his agreement was unfair? What would stop him from walking through those slinging doors and shooting people in the heads for looking at him funny? She wondered if Sheriff Scott ever put these thoughts into that big head of his. Judging by how keen he was to sidle up to her before, trying to butter her up like some kind of scone, he wasn't all too bright.

Maybe he was just a figurehead people could get behind. He certainly fitted the part of a hero, a man clad in white, keeping the peace and making sure that the Blue Devil stayed per his contract as established by the previous Sheriff. Roxanne then wondered how the Mayor felt about all of this, surely the man wasn't all too happy with the arrangement. It seemed as though you didn't see the Mayor unless there was a big issue that you had to work out, like where your land ended and where another began. Still, though, having a wanted man living near by should be fairly important, shouldn't it?

"Penny for your thoughts." Bernard said as he walked past her, carrying a tray full of empty bottles.

"Hm? Oh." Roxanne blushed slightly, nursing her drink to her chest. "I was just wondering about the Blue Devil."

"Certainly worth wondering over I'll give him that much." Bernard commented as he walked around the bar and began the long process of cleaning the glasses all over again. "I've seen him, you know."

"Really?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"Oh yeah. It was weeks ago. I'd finished my job for the day, handed it over to my night man to manage business till day break and I go out to stretch my legs and get some clean air that isn't tainted with alcohol or cigar smoke. Then, on the horizon, I see the black smoke clouds billowing. He's moving, you see. Just riding around I think, since every man needs to stretch his legs. But I see his outline amongst it all. Thin, short, but I swear he was looking right at me. Unnerving, the whole thing." Bernard explained, giving an involuntary shudder of his shoulders. "Word is he can shoot the wings off a fly, as well as a hole through a dollar coin."

"That's impressive." Roxanne mumbled, "If it is true."

"I rather not find out." Bernard replied with a soft smirk. "Out here many men die by their guns, their boasts... let's just say Mr. Stanton over there drives a good business in building caskets." he said, gesturing over to a thin man dressed in black and sipping a glass of whiskey in the far corner.

"How lovely." Roxanne said sourly.

"Most are out of towners course." Bernard said with a shrug. "Trying to find some young daughters in need of... well. Visitation I guess you might say. Try to take it for themselves, or try and rob our bank. That was before, though."

"Before?" she asked.

"Before Sheriff Scott came into power. He used to be Sheriff Ashby's deputy, but with the old man getting... well. Older, a young man had to take over. So Sheriff Scott took over and many of those hot heads stopped coming by and causing trouble. Now the only thing we have to bother worrying about, if some do or not, is about the Blue Devil." Bernard went on to explain further with another slow shrug.

"What do you think, Bernard?" Roxanne asked, having finished her drink and handed him the glass.

"Of many things Miss. Ritchi. Be more specific." Bernard replied as he took the glass.

"About Blue Devil. Do you think he's the devil himself? Or maybe a lesser demon? Or just a regular man?" she probed.

"There's that other theory though." Bernard pointed out, "The one about him being from the skies far above our heads. To be totally honest I don't know. Nor do I truly care."

"You don't care?" she asked, eyes widening.

"As long as he keeps his black boots out of my saloon, I'm fine." Bernard replied honestly. "He's never come in here looking for drink or women. I'm charged for the drink I give, of course, so I'm not giving it away for free. So far it works. So why should I worry myself over thinking about where he came from? What matters is he's here, now. That's it. And I don't even care about that."

"You don't care about much, do you?" Roxanne observed.

"Keeps my hair brown." he replied with a small smile, which caused her to smile in turn.

What a character, she thought as she watched him walk the bar, taking peoples orders and filling their glasses before going on to clean at least five other glasses. He was so laid back and content in himself, the only thing that mattered to him was the integrity of his saloon, which he had only inherited by pure luck. Unlike those around him who seemed a little skittery since it was Wednesday and that Blue Devil had only just passed through their town, he seemed to be like an observer. A man standing besides a painting of the worried town and not truly being affected what was going on in the painting, since he was merely a viewer. She wondered if she could borrow some of his calm, since she felt like she needed it.

To be honest she felt wronged. That man had caused her to faint, something she had never done before in her entire life. She had transformed from the sure fire schoolmistress into a weeping willow, having to be carried to the doctors and awoken with sleeping salts. That wasn't who Roxanne Ritchi was at all, and she hated the Blue Devil for tainting her image. Then again, if he was a true villain he would have surely taken advantage of her... but then on the other hand if he had that would be in violation of the contract he had set up with Mr. Ashby... who, now, was in town.

She couldn't demand justice, especially when there was a system all ready in place.

It wasn't long until Roxanne found herself laying in her bed, and sighing to herself. Today had been a long, tiresome day. She had cleaned out the school house, set up new posters along with a new Alphabet scroll that ran the length of the front of the class. Tomorrow she would be finding out when she could come around to purchase the new desk from Damien's pappy... then again she would need to find out the name and locations of all the young children in the town who would need an education.

Maybe she would have to see the mayor after all, or at least somebody working with registrations and property ownership. Would they even keep a record of the children birthed to each house and family? Things didn't seem nearly as well planned and recorded like back home out here. Sighing to herself, she played with the her hair, done up in a plait.

That mans eyes kept coming back to her. Those green, beautiful eyes against a sea of black and blue. How... majestic, they had been. Whilst they had appeared judging and angry, she was sure she had seen deeper into those eyes than she had meant to see. Surely she hadn't really seen a sadness there, a tinting of a color he wanted nobody to see. What kind of a life did this man lead, anyway? Holed up in a cave to the West with monsters and beasts, with horses made of metal and a talking fish... my Gods, a talking fish. She still couldn't come to grips with that.

Surely that must have been the heat getting to her! Roxanne had been working terribly hard all day, maybe she had been feeling a little light headed and that explained why she had imagined a fish speaking. That was the only way...! No way in God's green earth would He allow a fish to speak like a person.

Slumping down in her bed, Roxanne forced herself to try and relax. Remember Bernard, remember his calm and his content despite the crazy town he had found himself in. She would be the same. Despite the crazy end of her day, she had to relax and find peace in slumber. It would do her no good to be working on half a nights sleep the next day, especially if she would have to be travelling anywhere.

Finally she was asleep, but those eyes still haunted her. She saw the Blue Devil, standing before her on a long stretch of white sand, and he was dressed as always in the black. He lifted his head slowly, and those green eyes looked at her again. Slowly he blinked, before grabbing his black poncho and bringing it in close to his body and before she knew it, he had melted into the sand and had become her shadow. Then the black smoke and steam began to fill the air, and she cried out as that glowing green fish as large as life and twice as ugly was upon her. His jaws wide, his teeth sharp as knives, and he closed them down upon her and...

Roxanne awoke, jumping again. Just as she'd done the previous morning. Sighing to herself, Roxanne rubbed at her eyes, and kicked her sheets down off of her legs.

"I might need to start drinking warm milk before going to bed..." sighed Roxanne, since the old 'trick' had helped her sleep calmly all through her childhood. Roxanne guessed the dreams were also disturbing for her since she was in a strange land, a different land from the port that she had grown up on. Out there, to the North, her daddy owned a good chunk of land at the port. There he charged fees for the huge ships to dock and make business, which gave him a whole heap of money. With that money he bought up more docklands until he owned a good long stretch of land. That meant his family was incredibly well off, one of the richest people in their town and for good measure. Despite the many suitors who came a calling for her, Roxanne had turned them all down. She had seen the lust for money and inheritance in their eyes when they looked at her, the only daughter of the richest man in town.

So here she was. Nobody here knew of the money attached to her, or where she had come from. She only hoped things stayed that way, and she would have to watch to make any 'new comers' were from the same port lands as she was. No need for anyone to slip that Roxanne Ritchi, schoolmistress and educator, was rich as a queen.

Roxanne had just been fastening her shoes when she heard a knocking on her door. Getting to her feet she went and answered it.

"Why young Mister. Damien Jamieson!" Roxanne smiled down upon the grubby looking boy, "You're certainly early!"

"Yes Miss. Ritchi," Damien replied with a wide grin as he worried his hat in his hands. "I just came ta let you know pappy's willin' ta sell his desk fer at least ten dollars."

"Ten dollars?" Roxanne echoed, pausing in thought. "That sounds mighty decent of him."

"I'm glad Miss. Ritchi, since daddy went 'n told him off fer askin' so much." Damien said brightly. "But he said that there desk is almost as old as he is, 'n it's worth ever penny."

"I'm sure it is." Roxanne laughed before putting her hands to her waist. "So when can I be expected to go callin' for that there desk?"

"Any time youse wants Miss. Ritchi," he replied, "Pappy never go nowhere on account of loosin' his leg. So he'll be more than happy ta see ya whenever you go round."

Roxanne got the distance to the Jamieson farm from the young boy, and reminded him that in a few days classes would be beginning and she would expect to see him, and any of his kin, showing up bright eyed and bushy tailed for the first day of lessons. He didn't seem quite as happy to hear this information, wished her a good day, and skedaddled away before she could reprimand him any further information he didn't really want to know. She watched him go, before smiling to herself and gathered up some more money to rent a cart and horses, along with a fee for the desk itself. Putting on a hat she walked out into the main street and towards Mr. Jenkins.

He owned a ranch in town where he would let people lend horses, carts, carriages and other assorted horse related goods. She hummed to herself as she walked, but then spotted the Sheriff Scott walking towards her. "Good morning, Sheriff Scott." she greeted.

"Mornin' Miss. Ritchi." he tilted his white hat to her before stopping in front of her, stopping her walk to Mr. Jenkins.

"Can I help you?" she asked, a little irked at the disruption of her day's duties. She had an hour's ride East from here, and she didn't want to be out when the sun was at its highest and the sun at it's hottest.

"I heard you had a run in with the Blue Devil last night." he said sternly, eyes narrowed but full of concern. "I'm glad to see you made it through all right, 'n he made no attempt to harm your person."

"My person is quite fine, thank you for your concern." Roxanne replied with a small smile, trying to hide her annoyance at how he now felt she was a weak little lady for fainting. "He took me quite by surprise, but that has passed now I must assure you."

"Happy ta hear that, Miss. Ritchi. 'N whatt're you up to on this fine day?" he asked, hooking his thumbs in his belt buckle.

And people called her nosey! Roxanne stifled the urge to giggle at her quiet, little joke and looked up at him. "I'm heading off to Damien Jamieson's pappy's farm. He has a new desk for me."

"Oh good! That reminds me," he suddenly pulled out five dollar coins from his pocket. "I sold off the old desk, this here is yours.' Sheriff Scott then actually took her hand, and placed the money in before closing her hand over it. "Meant ta bring it to you but word came back that a bunch that's been known to give us grief were spotted in the twon over. Now we know they ain't the type to come 'round here but I had ta make sure there weren't no plans of pullin' rank 'n makin' trouble."

"A bunch?" Roxanne asked, tugging her hand free and thanking him quickly for the money. "A bunch of what?"

"No good side winders." Scott Sheriff said. "But like I said, they dun dare step foot 'round here."

"Well I do hope you're right." she replied before smiling at him. "Good day to you, Sheriff Scott."

"Good day to you, Miss. Ritchi." he smiled back and tilted his hat once more before walking on. Roxanne watched him go, before shaking her head and continuing her trek to Mr. Jenkin's.

Outside of the office, cleaning up, was a young Negro boy not wearing any shoes. He had a straw hat at least twice the size of his head and he was whistling to himself as he cleaned. Roxanne approached him and stopped, watching him a moment. Feeling her eyes on him the little boy lifted his head to stare at her with those rich brown eyes of his. "Hello." she greeted with a smile, "Would Mr. Jenkins be in?" He nodded, pointing to the door. "Thank you kindly." she said before walking past him and into the room. It smelt of leather, and paintings of horses lined the walls. There were ribbons too, for races won, and represented best breeds in show. It was all quite impressive.

"Why Miss. Ritchi!" Mr. Jenkins greeted her as he stood up from behind his desk from where he had been counting money. "What can I do you for this fine day?"

"Good mroning Mr. Jenkins." Roxanne replied, putting on her best business voice. "I'm here to borrow from you a pair of horses with a cart. I got a desk I need to go and collect from the Jamieson's. Now I hear you're the man to see when it comes to lending horses and carts?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Mr. Jamieson was a portly man, who had obviously enjoyed one too many heavy meals at the dinner table. He had sharp eyes though, behind a pair of spectacles, and for a moment it reminded her of Bernard in the saloon.

"Ah, my dear lady!" he chuckled, moving back to his desk and leading her to follow him. "You have come to the right place. So, how long are you going to be needing my fine animals?"

Details were discussed and arranged. Roxanne put down the money he requested, and she watched as the little Negro boy set up the horses. She would have liked to help but she didn't know how to set a horse to a cart to save her life. So instead she watched as he scampered around the two black animals, placing saddles here, straps here, blinders there, and then walk them to the carts that had been set aside for selection. Not knowing the size or dimension of the desk Roxanne decided to go with the largest one. Without a word, the little boy fastened the horses into place and it wasn't long until Roxanne was driving the cart up the main road.

"Well now," she heard Bernard's voice and she turned her head, pulling the horses to a stop. He was stood outside his saloon, picking up the cleaning rags he had left to hang and dry the night previous. "You look like you're off for an adventure." he commented.

"Mmmh." Roxanne nodded, "I have the desk to pick up from the Jamieson's farm."

"Do you know the way?" he asked, raising a brow. Judging by how quiet she went, he continued. "Wait a minute. I'll go get the map and show you." Bernard ducked back into the saloon before returning and climbed up to sit besides her on the cart. He had a map about the size and width of his arm length, and opened the map. Bernard showed her the path to take, even going so far as to draw on it with an ink fountain pen. He showed her land marks, which to avoid, which to follow, and soon Roxanne knew just how far she had to go.

"Thank you ever so much, Mr…" she paused, since he had never given her his surname.

"Dunnings. Mr. Bernard Dunnings. Apologies, I forgot to mention it last night." Bernard chuckled, embarrassed by his own faux pass. Unbeknownst to him, a man in white had paused in conversation with somebody and had watched the two interact from down the road.

"Well thank you again, Mr. Dunnings!" Roxanne laughed, her first real laugh since the night before and the Blue Devil had waltzed into her life. "I would have certainly been lost without your guidance."

"My pleasure. You take care." Bernard said and he returned to the safety of his saloon steps to watch her start up the cart again, and head off down the road. He watched until she was gone, and smiled faintly to himself. Miss. Ritchi seemed a very smart young woman, she would have to be to be a schoolmistress, but he could tell she was a good laugh too. That wasn't something you happened upon often with some women, especially those from out of town. They tended to be prim, proper, the kind not to laugh at something funny like somebody slipping and landing in mule poo. Roxanne, though... she was a witty one. He liked that. Just as he was walking back into his saloon he saw the Sheriff standing near by. "Oh. Sheriff." he greeted.

"Good morning, Mr. Dunnings." he said levelly.

"Can I help you?" Bernard asked, lifting a brow.

"You can but not in a drinking kind of way." said the Sheriff before he walked up the steps and spoke in a low voice. "Private affair. Do you understand?" Sheriff Scott asked quietly. Bernard looked at the man for a long moment, as if reading his features and hearing a story nobody else could understand, much less listen to, before giving a slow nod, and gestured inside. He and the Sheriff headed inside and the doors to the saloon shut behind them.

Meanwhile out on the trail, Roxanne laughed to herself as the horses continued pulling the cart. So far her trip had been quite enjoyable, not nearly as bumpy as she had feared it would be. The animals were large but graceful, their coats shining in the early morning sun. Their manes and tails were both jet black, and she had to wonder if they were siblings, born of the same mare or just a lucky coincidence they were both as jet black as night. The black color, though, brought on memories of the other black thing she had seen the night previous. That man on a metal horse, face hidden from sight thanks to a hat and that kerchief, looking at her with those green eyes of his. Did he know the joy of riding out with a cart? She didn't know.

Judging by how he seemed to be the type to ride at night, the chances were fairly low. It was dangerous to ride at night, the horse wouldn't be able to see where it was going. Next thing you know its foot goes in a gopher hole or missteps, breaks its leg, and you're stranded out there. Hopefully not with a dead horse on your person, since they weigh an awful lot. Then again those metal horses, could their legs break? Or would something else break? She had so many questions but nobody to ask them to! The only person who seemed to know more about the blue man was Mr. Ashby, and she had gone and probably insulted him the night before also. Another thing she would have to no doubt apologize for, since men were such children and they so very rarely apologized first. You always had to beg for their forgiveness, say you'd never do it again and then, and only then, would they smile and accept your words and apologize in return.

"Men." she said aloud before adding with a laugh, "No offence meant if either of you are boys." Roxanne called to the two horses, who merely snorted in return as they continued at an easy trot. She then realized the dust and redness of the land began to dull gently, the further she went. The ground wasn't as flat; there were now rocks, and traces of grass and weeds here or there. So the town wasn't as far from greenery as she had first thought! That was refreshing to know, and even more so when she saw the first tree, quickly followed by another, and another. It was quite nice, to be totally honest with you. There were birds singing in the trees, and she was certain she heard bees buzzing from near by plant life.

Maybe this was where Sheriff Scott had gotten that apple? No doubt there'd be orchids here or there...

Her thoughts were rudely interrupted when she suddenly heard a harsh rattling noise that filled the air. The horses stopped in their tracks for a brief second, the blinders they wore doing nothing to hide the sight from before them. A massive brown and black rattler was coiled in the middle of the track, its tail lashing to and fro wildly and filling the air with that horrible noise. Its mouth opened and it hissed violently at the approaching horses, daring them to try to come any closer less they wanted to be bitten. Being smart animals, the horses whinnied loudly and sharply turned, running as fast as they could to avoid the snake. Roxanne screamed as she held firmly to the leather straps of their reigns and tried to get them under control but the horses were terrified.

The carts wheels bumped across rocks and hedges, tossing it side to side. Roxanne screamed louder still, and one nasty bump threw the hat she was wearing forward and it fell across her vision. Riding up behind her, suddenly, seeming out of nowhere came her salvation. The horses head was forward, eyes narrowed, and its hooves crashing against the ground underfoot as its rider pushed it as fast as it dare go. Behind it, the beast kicked up clouds of dust but also smoke. The rider, clad in black from head to foot, rode the horse as a second one followed a distance away.

Minion and his master had been out for a walk with the Coyote Bots. They had been sniffing around a tree when they had heard a woman's scream, and the blue man had gone to investigate. Seconds later Minion had heard him dash off, and like any faithful servant had followed after. Now here he was, chasing his boss who was chasing a runaway cart with a woman on board whilst the Coyote Bots chased him to keep up. It was a maddening situation but it was made even worse since the gorge near by was looming faster with every gallop of the horses.

Roxanne tried to remove her hat but if she dare remove her hand from one of the reigns she dare not contemplate what could happen. What could she do? She could jump, but there were rocks and trees all around her. If she jumped she could break her back or worse if she landed wrongly. All she could do was hang on for her life but then behind her, to the left, she heard a voice. "Hold on!" the voice was unknown to her, and she turned her head in an effort to see who it was but her vision was still blocked by the hat.

"I can't control them!" she screamed the obvious, hating how her voice shook in fright but she could totally understand why. More than understand why, since the cart suddenly took another deadly jolt.

"Jump, jump!" screamed the voice, "I'll catch you!"

He had better, she thought. Throwing all caution to the wind and putting her life into the hands of whoever this stranger was, Roxanne let go of the horses' reigns and jumped. She felt a hand grab her around the middle and haul her over the saddle of the horse he was riding. Then she heard a loud blasting noise; the whinny of the horses and then the rumbling and rocking rolling sound of the cart vanished.

Minion had seen it all. His boss had pushed the metal horse to ride as fast as it could until it had been right up against the cart, and had told the woman to jump into his arms. Luckily she had. The second he had her he had pulled out a gun he himself had designed and had blasted it at the part of the cart that connected the horses to it. Without the cart the horses had bolted in their own direction, away from the gorge. Over went the cart, vanishing out of sight and he heard the loud, nasty crash as it tumbled to its demise. His boss slowed the horse, bringing it back to a calm state of being as it finally stopped a good arms length from the edge.

Roxanne felt as though her heart was going to explode. What had just happened... had just happened, hadn't it? That snake, the horses, the wild ride and her rescuer who was now lifting her up so she was no longer thrown over his lap like a faithful pet. "Oh thank you, thank you..." she wheezed, breath all but stolen from her lungs by the adrenaline. She finally grabbed her hat and pulled it off, "I, I don't know how to thank you for-" she stopped, voice freezing in her throat when she saw who she was sitting against, whose horse she was on, and just who she was looking at.

The Blue Devil looked at her, and those piercing green eyes she had even dreamed about bored into her blue ones. He was without the kerchief today, it seemed, since she could now see his face. How thin and gaunt it was. He was blue through and through, and he had a thin moustache atop his lips and a simple black track of hair running from under his lip to his chin. If he wasn't blue, or a dangerous outlaw, she might even go so far as to call him handsome. But still, despite all that, he had just saved her, hadn't he? Swallowing dryly, she quickly looked away but then spotted his mechanical companion who was retrieving her two black horses from where they had run off.

"Seems to me you like getting yourself into trouble." Blue Devil commented, panting just as hard as she was. It was then she realized his arm was around her waist, holding her close, and just how thin his arms were. Roxanne flushed brilliantly but seeing how she was already red it was impossible to tell.

"P-put me down. Please." she said.

"Oh, you can walk?" he asked.

"Put me down, right now." she repeated.

"Since you asked so kindly the first time but not the second..." he said snidely as he did indeed let her go and slowly eased her to the floor. Then promptly laughed since the young woman wobbled where she stood before falling over. Her legs felt like they were made of jelly, and his laughter wasn't helping the situation. "I knew that would happen."

Roxanne kept quiet, not daring to insult him. She had felt the firmness of a gun in its holster on his side whilst he had held her. You didn't trifle with a man who was armed, even more so with a man who was a wanted criminal. She did, however, give him a good hard glare. He seemed to be actually amused by this, as he leaned forward on his metal horses saddle. "Are you all right, either way?" he asked.

"I'm fine." Roxanne shot back quickly. She forced herself to her feet, trying to shake the nerves out of her body whilst doing her best not to out right stare at the man on his horse. "Thank you." she said again, "That was a kind thing for you to do..."

"Well I couldn't let you go riding over the gorge and die horribly now, could I?" he asked.

"Gorge?" she asked, face suddenly paling.

"Oh yes." he replied casually before gesturing out yonder. "There's a fifty foot drop just ahead of us. They're in the middle of building a train bridge to cross it, but right now it's a death trap. Especially for young women riding carts alone. Let me guess, you've never ridden a cart before."

"I most certainly have and I would not assume so much about a person in future!" Roxanne said sharply, not truly meaning to but the way he had said it had just seemed so insulting.

"Pardon." he replied, which surprised her. "Didn't mean no offence. So, anyway." Blue Devil suddenly, actually, climbed down off of his horse. His spurs clinked as he landed on the ground and he dusted at his front with his gloved hand, trying to rid his black poncho from the dust he had no doubt collected whilst playing the hero. It didn't suit him at all, it seemed. "What brings you out East?"

"W-what about yourself? I thought you lived in the West..." Roxanne replied, her curiosity no doubt making that phrase 'curiosity killed the cat' even more true.

"Man should be able to walk his pets when he wants." replied the Blue Devil before Roxanne heard mechanical noises erupting from behind her.

She spun on the spot and gasped at what she saw. Like the horses, these creatures had metal for skin. There were at least twenty of them, and whilst they were the size and scale of a group of Coyote Bots they lacked one very important thing. Faces. Instead of two eyes, a nose and a mouth, they had glowing domes for heads. There were no ears at all in which to speak of, or noses. In place of a regular maw there were metallic ones that reminded her of bear traps. With every swing of their jaws there came a squeak from rust, followed by that noise that could be considered barking. Roxanne drew in closer to herself, eyes wide, as the beasts actually ran around her, totally oblivious. Slowly she turned to see the metal canines running around the Blue Devil, all of their metal tails wagging happily.

He, in turn, laughed and reached out, petting their glowing heads. From within their dome brains she saw sparks emitting, and wherever his fingers touched, the sparks would connect but never to shock him. She had never seen anything like them, the horses, or his assistant, who was fast approaching with her horses.

"Yes, yes..." Blue Devil was speaking to the Coyote Bots. "I know, our walk was interrupted. For a good cause. Now I repeat again," he stood up tall whilst another one of the beasts nibbled at a corner of his poncho, "Why are you heading out East? Nothing here but farms and orchids."

"I needed to collect my desk." Roxanne blurted. "For my schoolhouse."

"Oh, you're a teacher?" Blue Devil asked, tilting his head to the side. It was here Roxanne suddenly realized how... well. Large his head appeared. Not his face, that was a quite normal size, but his skull... the hat hid it well in the late afternoon darkness but out here in the middle of the day, sun shining and birds buzzing, she saw that the crown of his head was at least twice the size of normal men. She stared, unable to help herself again. "I must admit, Miss, your manners are much to be desired. Did I not mention staring the other time we met?"

Roxanne blinked, and blushed brilliantly. "Yes." she said quickly, before adding. "I. I'm the new schoolmistress. I had to get rid of the old desk and… and buy a new one. An old man out here was willing to sell his to me, since it's so old and large I had to bring the cart... the cart!" her blue eyes widened drastically and ran away from the Blue Devil, the horses, and the Bots. She picked up her skirts as she ran, not wanting to trip and give this man the pleasure of seeing her underwear and skirts, and didn't stop until she was just at the edge of the gorge and looking over. She could see pieces of shattered wood stretching out, and she knew the cart was well and truly gone. "Oh no…"

"Was it yours?" the second voice made her jump and she turned, to see that the mechanical bodied fish was standing besides her.

"...Did... did you speak?" Roxanne asked.

"I did." replied the fish, and indeed his lips did move as he spoke. "Was the cart yours, or a friends?" he asked again.

"Rented." she replied quietly, before jumping again since the Blue Devil appeared on her other side. She was now surrounded by them. The Coyote Bots weren't far away, she could hear them. Oh Lord. What if he decided she owed him something, something physical? Who would help her if he suddenly pushed her to the ground and forced her skirts up to her waist? Roxanne took a cautious step back, as the Blue Devil peered over the edge. The desire to suddenly push him, to rid the world of him, suddenly appeared but was quickly squashed. If she killed him, the fish and the Coyote Bots would kill her. Not wanting to meet an early grave after just missing her pervious chance to experience one, Roxanne stayed still.

The Blue Devil whistled. "You're going to have to pay for that whole thing." he said. "Rough luck."

She was about to reply that it was no issue, but held her tongue. No need to let _them_ know that she had money. That wouldn't be a very good idea at all. "So it would seem." she replied quietly.

"And now you got to worry over a desk too." the fish spoke up, shaking his small body the same way a person would shake their head in disapproval. "What a mess of a day it is for you, Miss. Schoolmistress."

"Roxanne Ritchi." she pointed out curtly, "My name is Miss. Roxanne Ritchi."

"Sorry. Miss. Ritchi." the fish smiled. "My name is Minion, in case you were wondering. But you don't have to go put any 'Mister' in front of it. I'm just Minion." he grinned toothily at her and, despite his apparent savage appearance; he was... in a way, cute. Just how this happened she didn't want to speculate. She then glanced at the Blue Devil, who had moved away from the edge and was now walking through the sea of Coyote Bots. Seemingly picking up on the fact she was looking at him, he looked at her.

"...Call me what you like. Just nothing dirty, or insulting." he said, pointing at her.

"And don't you point!" she replied curtly, "It's rude."

"Heavens above, wouldn't want to be appearing rude now would we?" he asked, putting his hands on his hips, and this gesture reminded her that he had guns. Roxanne swallowed thickly and took a step back. "...Now don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you none." Blue Devil said, lifting his hands away from his guns. "Why would I save you only to kill you now?"

"I don't know. I don't normally make it a habit of getting to know how a criminal's mind works." she replied quietly, looking down at her dusty, torn blue dress she had worn today.

Snorting, the Blue Devil walked with an annoyed jaunt to his walk as he approached his horse that had been cooling down since the incident. "You do realize you owe me your life now."

"What!" Roxanne opened her eyes and stared at the man, her eyes wide with shock and horror at the realization.

"You owe me your life, because I saved it." Blue Devil pointed out, seemingly quite pleased by this bit of information. He grinned at her as he adjusted the saddle on the metal horses back. "How exciting, I've never owned a life before!"

"You owe mine, Sir." Minion spoke up helpfully.

"Oh but of course Minion," Blue Devil spoke in a flattering kind of way as he put a gloved hand to his chest. "That goes without saying! But you know what I mean, by _other_ life. Pink, fleshy, human life."

"What are you going to do with me?" Roxanne demanded, wondering if she was quick enough she could get a hold of one of his guns and shoot him, then the fish and make it to a horse before those Coyote Bots would get their jaws on her. If they were going to suggest anything near perverted she'd...

"Well now." the Blue Devil climbed up onto his horse and grabbed it's reigns. "That is presently up for debate." he informed her. "Right now though, Miss. Ritchi, I suggest you get your pretty little self home. There are varmints around which are in no means or way related to yours truly and I would hate to see you get caught up with them. Minion. The horses." he gestured.

Roxanne jumped back as the metal fish suddenly approached her and held out a reign for her to take. She saw it led to her black horses, and she quickly snatched it up. Eyes narrowed she watched as the fish returned to his own horse and climbed onto it, whilst those twenty or so Coyote Bots continued to bark and run around the two as if they were the centre of their worlds. Maybe in a way they were. She swallowed as she looked at the two on the horses made of metal, and she wondered just what kind of favor the Blue Devil would ask of her, and when.

He looked at her, watching her, those green eyes once more boring into her blue eyes. Sniffing once, the Blue Devil suddenly grinned. "We'll be seeing you again Miss. Ritchi. Make no doubts about that."

"I don't." she replied.

He suddenly cheered and pulled his hat from his head, revealing the large, throbbing, and bald cranium he possessed. Blue Mind called to the Coyote Bots who barked, answering him. The two of them turned as one, and bolted through the trees. She coughed, covering her mouth as the thick black smoke from the horses gushed out to envelope her and her horses in it. They of course whinnied and complained but this time she got them under control again much quicker than before. By the time the air cleared, the Blue Devil and his companion the fish named Minion along with the Coyote Bots were long gone. Grumbling to herself she tied one horses' reigns to the seat of the other before climbing onto the one in front.

"Move out west, plenty of opportunity for a good career," she said to herself as she began the trek back towards town. "No way would anything bad happen. What's bad? Oh, I don't know. Owing your life to a murdering, thieving, blue skinned man mad who may or may not have come from Hell itself or Heaven above. And how am I going to explain myself to Mr. Jenkins? That cart won't be easy to replace way out here, even with the money! This has been the worst day!" she complained loudly as she rode on the black horse. "You two didn't help matters either." she chastised the animals, "That snake wasn't that large. You could have trampled him if you had been going any quicker!"

And so she spoke, complaining and hissing to herself all the way back to work... all the while in the heat of the sun which, as she had expected, was at its worst this time of day.


	3. Chapter 3

The group of men, and women, gathered at the top of the gorge, overlooking the night skies. Above them the stars of their ancestors looked down upon the land, their mother, and made her even more beautiful than they thought possible. The desert, edged with the greenery of the gorge and orchids were truly beautiful this time of year. The leaves were growing greener with every passing day, their fruits ripe and ready for picking and turning into preserves and jams.

But something else had called them to this part of the land tonight. Several days ago the skies, high above them, had lit up in the middle of the day. Something had died up above them all, and it had brought on fears of disease, death and turmoil. Consulting with their shaman, he calmed their nerves, informing them that it wasn't the end times. At least for them. But something would be coming, something important, something wondrous and they had to be there less what the Gods had set in motion would end before they begun.

"Look." said a young girl, clutching a straw doll to her chest.

They all saw it, without the little girl pointing it out. Something was streaking through the night sky, lighting it up as it travelled. The night guy was suddenly on fire, the clouds above bled red and the stars sparkled harsher against the darkness of the night.

"It is going to land near the town." spoke the Shaman, clutching his walking stick that was tied at its end with ribbons, and feathers along with a single bird's skull. "Hurry."

Jumping to their horses a group of seven men, and one woman, jumped onto their horses and rode off. The Shaman only hoped that they would be in time, less the Gods forgive him for his misjudgment in where the arrival would land. He gestured for the others to follow him, since they had a long trek to their home and it was best to travel by dark than the day time. Less trouble and problems that way. Even if slavery had been abolished many years ago, the white man on the lands still treated their kind with hostility, and one could not blame them. War was an ugly game played by ugly men, and he knew that they were not perfect. There was no such thing.

The townsfolk had been in their beds, asleep, where they would be at this time of night. Only one man was awake, so only one person witnessed the sky turning a bloody red in the middle of the night. Sheriff Ashby stood in the middle of the street, his shadow suddenly lengthening out behind him as if it were the middle of the day in July. He stood there, and for a split second feared that the end times had come. That the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were about to erupt out of the very skies on their horses, bringing with them the end of the world.

But then he saw something falling from the skies. The brightness of its arrival almost blinded him and he lifted a hand, shielding his eyes, but still saw something crashing out of the skies and landing to the West. Hurrying, he ran to his horse that had been dozing by a water trough and awoke it as he climbed into its saddle. Tugging on its reigns he started the horse at a fast hard gallop towards the barren land of the West. He had to be careful, this was the Indian's land. While they were no longer at war, there was still painful and bloody memories on both sides whose wounds were still open and not fully yet healed.

Slowing the horse finally to a trot, Sheriff Ashby came to a stop. Ahead of him he saw an obvious dent in the land. Something had landed, but it wasn't here now. He continued making his way, the horses' breath visible in the cool of the night, and he had a feeling that he was being watched. No, in fact he knew he was being watched. While he couldn't see them, he knew the Indians could see him. They had a way of just sneaking up without you being fully aware, their footsteps with their moccasins being soft, gentle, all but going unheard of by normal people's ears.

Another dent in the red dirt, and small pebbles and rocks kicked up. Mr. Ashby finally stopped the horse and got off, leaving his horse to stand and wait as he continued on foot. Suddenly a noise broke out from the darkness, and it made his feet move even quicker. It was a baby's cry, that of a small one who had no defenses. He hurried faster until he finally stopped, and came across a compacted piece of earth where whatever it had been had finally landed.

It was a round ball, with a dull blue color to it. But it was made of metal, and had pieces sticking out that reminded him of sticks on a tree. A small door had fallen off and lay in pieces to the left of the ball, and he heard the cries of the child coming from inside. Carefully, slowly he approached, and finally saw what was within. It was as he expected, a baby. But a baby unlike any he had seen before. Its skin was blue as the sky, and it wore a deep blue one piece. In its hands was a round ball within swam a tiny green fish. The baby didn't appear to be hurt, just scared, startled, and alone.

The blue skin unnerved him. Even the sight of the fish, glowing brightly in his hands scared him. Then the baby's green eyes opened, and he saw a green he had never seen in a persons eyes before. Somehow this scared him even more. He took a few steps back and pulled his gun out of its holster, and clicked the pin as he began to lift it. "Not fer this world." he whispered but then he felt the presence of many around him.

Lifting his gaze he saw seven, maybe eight Indians standing around him. All of them had rifles out and aimed squarely at his head, chest, stomach, as well as his back. Even the lone woman who stood with them, dressed in rich blues and reds, held a shotgun like a professional and both her brown eyes were narrowed at him with such malice he was surprised he didn't drop dead from the look alone. Even if he shot the baby, they would then kill him for the mercy murder. Very slowly he lowered the gun to the dirt, knowing if he just replaced it in its holster that it wouldn't be enough for them.

"Get back." said one of the taller Indians, "Now."

Sheriff Ashby obeyed, taking a few steps away. "What is it?" he asked.

"A gift." replied the woman, handing the gun to the man to her left who quickly put his bow and arrow away to use the gun, letting it stick to the Sheriff's chest. She walked to the fallen ball and knelt before it, and gently pulled the baby out from within. It almost dropped the fish, but she collected that too and held both of them to her chest. The baby was still crying, but his fussy tears began to ease at being held.

"A gift?" Sheriff Ashby demanded, "It's a lil'... lil' freak."

"It is still a child." said one of the men. "A child that will be needing to be cared for."

"By you?" the Sheriff asked. "You, raising a... a blue child? Look at its head, there will be nothing in its life but misery and pain."

"As if our children will be just as challenged?" asked the woman, eyes narrowing as she looked at the Sheriff. "Even he with blue skin will be cared for. This is our land, remember the agreement. Honor that. But you will talk, no? How could you forget about him. About his eyes, his skin." she pressed a quick kiss to the top of the child's head. "You will tell them all. They will come after him. We can not allow that."

Sheriff Ashby stood there in the night air, surrounded by the Indians with all manner of weapons pointed "Are you trying to bribe me, intimidate me?"

"No. Never that." she said as she began to walk towards him, the whimpering child no longer in tears, but oddly calm. Almost angelic, in an alien way. "Just be the big man. You are a law man? Then respect life. Respect his. He is the lands son now. Yes there will be a challenge. Life is a challenge. He will raise to face the destiny that he Gods have laid out."

The law man stood there, thinking. Yes, all life was important... God asked of his children to respect one another... to treat others like they would wish to be treated. While he still felt this child, whatever it was, was something wrong he now realized that killing it, shooting a child for being different, was not why he had become a Sheriff. Killing children is what criminals did, and he was no criminal. Slowly he looked down at his feet. "So what is his destiny?"

"That is for him to discover." she said before turning away from him and walking back to her group, one of them quickly grabbing the small around ball but especially picking up the small, round, glowing ring that had tumbled out in the fall. "This will be his home. As it has been ours. A time will come when we will move on, but that is not now. You will respect him. He will respect you, it is how we will teach him. Remember tonight, law man. Remember him."

He watched as the group walked as one away from him, and soon kneeled and picked up the gun he had left behind. For one brief moment he could shoot them. But he didn't have enough bullets, not nearly enough. Then his subconscious kicked him in the stomach and he flinched, shutting his eyes. No. No more bloodshed. There had been enough out here, his father had killed how many of those people, and his grandfather... swallowing down his disgust, Sheriff Ashby began to turn when another one of them spoke.

"So it is agreed? You will not mention him, until he is ready to show himself." it was the tallest of the Indians, hanging back while his companions were climbing onto their horses.

"Agreed. You have my word." Sheriff Ashby returned.

The man frowned, and began to turn away as well. "White mans word is very rarely worth much. I hope you prove to be the different one."

With that he was gone, the Indians, the baby, the fish, and the pod. If you were just walking past, or hurrying by on a horse, you would never notice the dent in the dirt at all. He had two minds to tell the townsfolk, but how would they believe him? There was no proof, only the word of their Sheriff. While he was a good man, he was still a man, and a man out here did not not drink now and then. They would chalk it up as a drunken dream, an illusion and nothing more. Maybe, for now it was best to forget...

He snorted awake suddenly, yanked from the memory meshed into a dream by somebody rushing past him. The old man had fallen asleep outside Bernard's saloon, feet supported up on the wood that people would normally tie their horses up to, and lifted his hat as he watched a few people walk up to see Roxanne Ritchi returning. Only she had no cart, her dress was a mess, as was her hair and her hat lopsided. The two black horses snorted as they walked, and people were surrounding her and asking what had happened.

Getting to his feet the ex-Sheriff walked over to where she had stalled the horses, but still refused to get down from them.

"I'm fine, really. I'm fine." she insisted, "I had a bit of a problem with a rattle snake."

"A rattler!" gasped a young man, "Spooked yer horses good huh?"

"Real good." Roxanne replied with a faint smile, underplaying just how spooked they were. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to go explain things to Mr. Jenkins... and send young Damien back home with a message about what happened too." her heart was still racing in her chest despite it having taken place at least an hour ago. She could still feel the wind in her hair, the adrenalin of leaping blindly into the arms of her rescuer only to discover the man who had saved her was the 'devil' who terrorized the good people of this town. How would they react, if they knew the truth behind it all? Would they view it as a means for him to gain control of her soul? Oh no, that would be the last thing she wanted being spread around town that she was now his... his... puppet? Mistress? Good heavens, no!

"Went over into the gorge?" asked Mr. Jenkins, obviously quite horrified at the prospect of not only loosing his largest cart but the fact Miss. Ritchi might have gone over the edge with it. "Why, that's horrible, are y'all all right? You want I fetch the doc?" he asked, getting out from behind his desk and made his way around to her, grasping at her hands in a concerned manner.

"I appreciate the offer," Roxanne replied with a shaken smile. "But truly, I'm fine."

"But how on Earth did'ja survive? 'N the horses...!" he turned his head to peer out the front of the store to see the little black boy leading the large horses away. "How?"

Roxanne thought fast; she couldn't admit to being saved by somebody. He'd want to know who. And if she just 'created' a passerby it might work but what if it didn't? Anyone passing through here would _have_ to stop at the town for supplies before moving on. She dare mot breathe the word Blue Devil to him, less he believe she was now under his control or something silly like that. She smiled faintly. "Grace of God, Mr. Jenkins." Roxanne explained, "I just managed to jump from the cart, some rock must have hit the cart and allowed your horses to get away... took me near half an hour to get them back though." they'd buy that, wouldn't they?

"Praise the Lord, a miracle if ever there was one!" Mr. Jenkins gasped, shaking her hands now. "You truly have a guardian angel watchin' out for you, Miss. Ritchi."

Too bad her guardian angel wore black, was blue, and rode around on metal horses and surrounded by robot coyotes. But she smiled, nodding her head. "Yes, yes... now I know I owe you for the cart but-"

"Nothing of it, nothing of it!" Mr. Jenkins insisted, shaking a hand in her face. "You don't owe me a cent fer this. That ole' thing was gettin' on in years anyway. I been meanin' ta order a new one 'n now I got good reason to. Don't you think you owe me money, Miss. Ritchi. It's payment enough seein' you safe 'n secure again."

Roxanne blinked in surprise but smiled, nodding her head. "Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. I appreciate that."

After a few more blessings and praises for her being safe and in one piece Roxanne left the store and began her trek back to her house behind the schoolhouse. Naturally a lot of people stopped to ask how she was, and to know details about her ordeal out in the East. She told them all the same tale, that she just managed to jump to safety before the cart hit more rocks; which explained the dirt and rips to her dress that were obvious. The tailor of the town even offered to mend her dress free of charge, which she appreciated also but preferred to do her own stitching and handiwork.

Soon she was finally in the safety of her house, and had stripped out of her blue torn dress and given herself a quick sponge bath to wash away the dirt and grime of the day. She got into her nightgown, despite it being only around three pm in the afternoon and sat on her bed as she ran a brush through her long hair. No doubt word of this would go around the town quicker than a brush fire, and she'd be getting all kind sof queries as to the status of her health or if she was still scared of going out on a horse again. While she had to admit the idea did scare her a little, she just had to accept there were dangers to riding horses. She could remember hearing about a little girl who had died by falling off her pony the first time she rode it, how horrible it must have been for her family to loose her so young... but that was why you had to respect the animals, and know how to properly ride them.

Sighing she was just about to rest her head a moment where there was a knocking at her door. Grabbing he red dressing gown she tugged it on, tying the ribbon on its middle around her tightly and slowly began to pull the door open.

"Sheriff Scott!" she gasped, grasping at her dressing gown around her chest, face flushing brilliantly. "What, why... what do I owe for this unexpected visit?" Roxanne asked.

The Sheriff tipped his hat to her, before returning his hand to his waist. "Miss. Ritchi, I heard tell you had yourself a bit of an accident way out yonder." he said, knowing better than to ask if he could come in; she wasn't decent, after all. "I wanted to come 'round 'n check on you myself."

"That is kind of you." Roxanne said, flushing still. "But rest assure, I am quite fine. As you can see."

"Which is suspicious, since way out there it'd be mighty hard not to crash into somethin' when leaping from a carriage." Sheriff Scott said, one of his eyes narrowing slightly. "You know you can be honest with me, Miss. Ritchi. Did somethin' else happen out there? Somethin' you're not tellin' anyone?"

Roxanne frowned, and was tempted to slam the door in his face, but this was a lesson to her. A lesson for telling a lie the way she had, and to so many people. Of course the Sheriff would see through her statement, he knew the land better than anyone else would and no doubt he can tell a liar when he sees one. It was his job to sniff them out, after all. Sighing, she glanced aside. "If I tell you the truth, Sheriff Scott, you must understand that I do not want it to become the gossip topic of the day."

He said nothing, and simply waited.

"I was half way to the Jamieson's farm when my horses came across a rattle snake, now that is true. It was an awful big one, even I could see it from where I sat. Of course it tried to defend itself, rattling his tail and hissing and it worked." Roxanne explained, looking up at him. "My horses were spooked and began running out of control, taking the cart and me with it. I was afraid I was going to have to jump blindly in order to save myself but would ultimately hurt myself in the landing when somebody raced up alongside the cart and called for me to jump. That he'd catch me."

"He?" Sheriff Scott asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes. And he did catch me, he saved me while the cart went over the edge since it had indeed struck a rock." she went on to add. "Then he let me go and I returned here."

"Who saved you, Miss. Ritchi?" he asked, taking one step forward despite the door being in his way. "Was it somebody from the town or a stranger passing by? He didn't touch you wrongly, did he?" Sheriff Scott looked like he was on the edge of yelling, not at her, but at the mysterious stranger who may or may have not laid his perverted hands upon her body.

"I appreciate your concern Sheriff but no such thing happened." she replied calmly, despite the embarrassed flush spreading even further.

"Who saved you?" Sheriff Scott asked again. "Tell me."

She stared up at him, and knew there was no way in hiding the truth from this man. He was the Sheriff, he was supposed to know what was going on in his town. Sighing, she lowered her gaze to the floor. "Blue Devil."

"He what?" yelled the man, causing her to flinch back since no man had ever risen his voice at her before. Yes, she knew he wasn't yelling at _her_ per say, just the situation surrounding her. "What was he doin' out of his land? Was he stealin' apples?"

"What, no!" well, she didn't know for sure. "He was... was walkin' his... dogs? I guess you could call em that, they acted like them but..."

"Not of this world." finished the Sheriff as he turned and looked off into the distance, Westward. "So he saved you. What'd he do after that?"

"Well his... the fish brought the horses back. We bantered, but then he left me be." Roxanne explained. "He didn't touch me, or try to after letting me off of the horse he was riding."

"So he saved your life. You owe him, now." the Sheriff said darkly as he continued to stare out towards the West. Roxanne remained silent, but felt a little bit of surprise that the tall Sheriff had worked that much out for himself. Most men wouldn't take that into account, so it was no wonder he was Sheriff if he could read between lines like that. "I tell ya, I'm growin' sick of him havin' this town under him like this. I'm the Sheriff, I should be the law here! Not lettin' everyon' be afraid of some monster, and now here he is, bein' owed young women's lives as if they were to be collected!"

"Excuse me but he did tell me that he'd never owned a life before..." Roxanne began.

"That's what he wants y'all to believe." Sheriff Scott said, turning back to look at her finally. "I'm tellin' ya, Miss. Ritchi, I've had enough. Much as I respect Mr. Ashby 'n the laws he laid down with that man, or monster, they've lasted long enough. Evenin' Miss. Ritchi." he tipped his hat to her, turned, and hurried off like a man with a purpose in life.

"Sheriff Scott!" Roxanne called after him, but he was already long gone. "Oh dear God no." she said, putting a hand to her mouth. What had she done? What was he going to do? Was he going to ride out West and confront the Blue Devil on account of her? But why? Was he sweet on her? No, that couldn't be right. Why would a man like him be sweet on a simple girl like herself? While he had been awfully kind to her and spoken with her, even brought her an apple, that didn't exactly say that he had taking a liking to her or he had come around courting her. Not that she'd answer such courting, she was a schoolmistress and if she were to marry she wouldn't be able to work anymore and she lived for her work.

She gazed outside for a moment longer before closing the door.

"Stranger! There's a stranger inta town!" Damien's voice broke through the silence of the next morning, around nine o'clock, and his calls drew everyone out from their businesses and homes. The young boy and his friends had been playing in the street with his dog when they saw a stage coach making its way towards the town. At first they couldn't see much since it was so far away but the closer it got they saw what kind of story it had to tell. Half of its load missing and having scorch marks to its back wheels came riding into town. Those awake already gathered by their stores watching as the red haired stranger road into town on a stage coach being pulled by a spooked looking white horse with grey flecks upon its body. The man looked no older than twenty something, his red hair visible from sticking out underneath a deep brown hat. His clothes were dirty, showing he had been travelling some time. Women held their children close to them as he passed, and the stage coach finally stopped and the man grunted, rubbing at his low back.

"Well howdy stranger..." Mr. Jenkins stepped up first, "You needin' assistance?"

Turning his head the stranger looked at Mr. Jenkins before giving him a faint smile. "I'd 'preciate it." he said before easing down from his stage coach.

"Come from far away boy?" he asked as the red head dusted down his pants.

"Long ways. Me 'n my family were travellin' when a buncha folk jumped us. No other coaches come through here have they?" he asked, looking to Mr. Jenkins who shook his head. "Damnit they musta... oh Lord..." he pressed a hand to his face and shook his head. Mr. Jenkins moved a little closer and patted the man's shoulder.

"You made it son, it's all right. What's your name?" he asked as more of the townsfolk began to gather. Damien was peeking at the scorch marks on the stage coach, wondering just what had happened. Had they been jumped by Indians? Or was it the crooks he'd heard tale about in town? It all seemed very exciting and scary at the same time.

"Name? Oh, oh yeah. Hal Stewart." Hal introduced himself, shaking Mr. Jenkin's hand. "You folks are really way out here aren't ya?"

"Pretty far." laughed Mr. Jenkins nervously, letting go of Hal's hand. "Come 'long now Mr. Stewart, you need to get some water 'n food into ya 'n there's no finer place for either than our saloon."

The crowd moved with them, whilst some hovered back to observe the poor stage coach and the horse. Already the little black boy was running up and running his hands down the horse's legs, checking for injuries and such. Even though he was a young boy he knew horses, obviously. He frowned before climbing up onto the animal's board shoulders and began to steer it off of the main road so he could set the remains fo the stage coach somewhere before taking the horse away to tend to its injuries.

All the while Roxanne Ritchi had watched from her schoolhouse. She, as everyone else, had heard of the group of varmints roaming the plains. Attacking groups of people, robbing them blind, killing the men and doing horrible things to the women before killing them too. Course, it could all have been a story, at least that's what she had believed until she saw what had happened to the carriage. And to know this stranger, Mr. Stewart, had been with his family and he was the only one to arrive here in one piece... horrible, nasty business. What was the Sheriff doing to protect them? Were the group actually avoiding their town entirely because of the Blue Devil or had it something to do with the Sheriff more? He certainly knew how to keep the peace...

...but then she remembered his flying off the handle the other day. While it was flattering he was, in a way, defending her honor the way he had just stormed off like that reminded her of a child being refused a toy that they wanted to play with.

Her curiosity drew her out from the safety of her schoolhouse and she crossed the main road to the saloon and pushed her way in. Mr. Stewart was at the bar and Bernard was pouring him something or another, and she had to almost laugh at how bored the bartender looked. He wasn't supposed to open this early and he was obviously miffed by everyone in town practically pushing their way into his saloon no matter if it was because they had a lone survivor from a stage coach attack.

"So there I was, ridin' long with my group. We dun been run outta our last town by the Sheriff who reckon we had too many folk 'round. Five days into our journey when, bam, outta nowhere! Blazing arrows outta nowhere 'n gunshots!" Hal held his hands out, "They rode up alongside us, shootin' their guns 'n arrows into us like we were target practice. Dun near tip over my stagecoach but I ride it back into them, rode over a few of them with my horses 'n wheels no worries!"

"What about the rest?" asked one of the 'ladies' who worked at the saloon, leaning on the bar.

"Well little lady I can't say," Hal said as he gave her a quick once over with his eyes. He smiled at her in a way that made Roxanne's skin crawl and she wasn't even the one he was smiling at. "I'd like ta hope they got away too but by the number of folk out there barin' down on us... I'm fearful to be the last."

"Was your family with them?" asked a young man.

"Don't got no family. Ain't had any ta begin with." replied Hal with a shrug. "Hyeah, s'tough life, livin' fer yaself. S'why gettin' away was so easily done. Gotta rely on yerself 'n I had left my guns in my stage coach. Couldn't very well stop to get em now could I? Dunno how I survived..." he sighed and shook his head before pulling his hat off and ran a hand through the stringy curls that made up his hair.

"Grace of God, perhaps?" Roxanne asked.

All heads turned to look at her, and Hal sat up straighter in his seat when he saw her. Those around her agreed readily, nodding and chatted quickly and quietly amongst themselves whilst Hal continued to stare at Roxanne, eyes wide. My word, he hadn't seen such a pretty little thing in such a long time he'd almost forgotten what a real woman looked like. She had this assertive posture to her, a smart glint to her eye and the prettiest little spot on her chin he ever did see. Chuckling he slid out of his seat and made his way towards her. "Grace of God, you're prob'ly right..." he said, "God obviously wanted us two to meet, wouldn't you think?" he asked as he now stood across from her, setting his thumbs in his belt hoops.

"I couldn't say, Mr. Stewart." Roxanne replied simply, "They say all things happen for a reason, but one can't leave oneself totally in the hands of destiny and fate. You still have to make a name for yourself in your own way."

"Couldn't agree more." he replied quickly, grinning. "You're mighty smart ain't ya little lady? What do you do with yourself?"

"That's Miss. Ritchi," spoke up Damien, "She's the school teacher! She dun survived fallin' off a cart when her horses was spooked by a rattler just the other day!" Roxanne cast him a quick glance and smiled faintly, despite wishing he hadn't said that.

"Well how 'bout that." Hal said, looking down at the boy. "She survives her ordeal, I go 'n do the same with mine..." he looked back at the woman and smiled in that kind of way that sent shivers of dislike up Roxanne's spine. "I'm more than certain now God wanted you 'n me to meet, Miss. Ritchi." next thing she knew he was grasping her hand in his sweaty, filthy ones and she had that shiver again. "How long you been in town, hm?"

"Not a week." she replied through gritted teeth before plucking her hand out of his grasp. "Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Stewart, but I've got business to attend to. I hope you recover from your ordeal soon, and continue onto where you were headed." Roxanne nodded to him once before turning and walking out of the saloon, unaware of how Hal watched her go with a keen brown eye.

"I think I've reached a pretty decent spot..." he said, quietly to himself, before turning back to his audience. "Now, drinks on me!" Hal announced to which there were cheers mixed with a single, long groan coming from Bernard who really didn't need this at all. Even with the good business it was far too early to be drinking and no doubt the little kids would be trying to steal a snip of whiskey, rum or scotch while he was busy attending to their parents who were in here with them.

Bernard's whole career was centered on serving people. Hearing their stories, nodding at the right place, and hearing all about what had happened to bring them to his saloon. Some stories were down right sad and heart breaking, while others were more amusing. Hal's story was... interesting, he'd give him that much. But it just seemed too convenient that this lone man who was pudgy and out of shape would be the lone survivor. Still, who was he to judge a lucky strike? Even if he thought very little of the man, the way he had all but pushed himself onto Roxanne like that. Sure, he was paid to listen, but he wasn't paid to talk, so he went about his business pouring all manner of drinks for the folks gathered.

"Hey, four eyes." Hal spoke to Bernard, causing the bartender to pause and look up at him. "Try workin' a little faster? Y'all draggin' yer feet."

"Sorry." Bernard said, not being sorry at all. Yeah, he didn't like this guy at all. There was just something off about him, and it set Bernard on edge, which took a lot since he wasn't the type of man to get on edge about anything. He glanced outside and he saw Miss. Ritchi walking away, not turning back to look at all. She didn't like the looks of him either, which cemented his thoughts even more that this woman really was smart and knew her way around people... men especially.

"Did'ja year?" spoke up a young man, "The Sheriff's gonna be goin' out ta tackle Blue Devil!"

This caused all kinds of reaction. Some men gasped in horror, others crossed themselves and Bernard just stood there with a twitch of an eyebrow to convey his emotions on the whole thing while Hal looked confused. "Blue Devil? Dun go tellin' me you folks believe in that stupid legend.." he started.

"Ain't no legend!" spat an older man, pointing at Hal. "We see him, every Wednesday 'round five he rides into town to get his food off us 'n rides back out! Cloaked in darkness 'n smoke, accompanied by his beasts from Hell itself ridin' the long plains of the West seekin' out the souls of good men 'n draggin' em down ta Hell. We all seen him ain't we?" he asked, to which most of those gathered nodded. "So don't go tellin' me it's nothin' but a fairy tale or legend! You're new to this town Mr. Stewart so we'll let this slide but come next Wednesday 'n you'll see him. You'll swallow yer tongue no doubt!"

"So... so what does he do, exactly?" Hal asked, turning in his seat to face the old man.

What followed was as Bernard expected. The long, drawn out tale of the Blue Devil and how he came to roam the plains in the West. That he had come up from Hell itself, slaughtered the Indians who used to live out there and took up their land. How he robbed trains and stagecoaches to get metal and money, building himself an army of monsters to house the souls of the men he had killed, torturing them till the end times. How wherever he rode on his horses from Hell there would be black smoke, black as his soul and black as the clothing he wore. He never met a man he hadn't killed, and how he and the old Sheriff had been at each to hers necks for years before the agreement and settlement of peace had been agreed upon. Course, he still struck fear into the hearts of everyone since it wasn't every day you saw a man with rich blue skin, with the power to not only kill a man but shrink him down so he was nothing and trample him under foot. All the while listening to this Hal's eyes grew wider with every passing word.

"'n... 'n he just lives out there?" Hal pointed.

"No, there." said another man, turning Hal's arm so it now pointed west. "Out there's the desert, thick hard ground, dirt 'n no trees. Then there's the mountains where he makes his home, build deep into the heart of em. Tunnels, as far as you can imagine. A man could get lost in there if he didn't know the way out. That's where he keeps the souls, 'n the money he dun stoles. That's his high way to Hell."

Hal simply whistled. "Whoa. Word came to us 'bout a man in black roamin' the country but we didn't figure it to be real. So y'all seen him?" he asked, to which many nodded.

"If you'd come out here ten years back you woulda seen him. Ridin' into town every other day with coyotes from Hell, shootin' his gun and causin' a ruckus just cuz he could! But Sheriff Ashby always managed ta clear him off, 'n when he finally had enough he rode on out there 'n made the agreement. Only now Sheriff Scott feels the agreement has gone on long enough 'n it's time somebody put Blue Devil in his place." explained the old man, lighting a cigar and gripped it with his teeth. "When that day comes you best be hidin' indoors somewhere, Hal. Goes for alla ya. Nobody dun mess with the devil less they wanna get burned real bad. The only man in town who dare do this is our Sheriff, 'n he's tried time 'n time again..."

Even if it happened once or twice every month, the townsfolk still couldn't come to grips with the fact that the Blue Devil was out there, always watching, and always waiting. Multiple times their brave Sheriff would ride off into the West to do battle with the man in black, and every battle seemed to top the rest. But they were evenly matched, Sheriff Scott obviously infused with the power of good, grace of God, and the almighty ghost that clashed horribly with the Blue Devil's pure evil, malice and power of Satan. Often a posse would follow, to witness and try to give support but those beasts and demons the Blue Devil had at his disposal always kept them at bay.

Though nobody said it, everyone feared that one day the Blue Devil might actually win. They prayed to Heaven almighty that no such thing would ever, ever occur but out here it was hard to hope too much. Especially for something like this.

Outside, Roxanne was continuing her walk back to her schoolhouse. She didn't like the new stranger in town at all, the way he looked at her or spoke to her. He reminded her of a homeless, savage dog that was trying to appear harmless and adorable all the while wondering what you'd taste like. That look he had given her certainly told her he had some negative expectations already in mind, and to think that they were aimed at her! Ugh, it made her sick to her stomach. Just as she was approaching her schoolhouse did she hear the rumbling of hooves? She spun and jumped out of the way just in time as the Sheriff came tearing around the corner, riding a pure white horse. He didn't even cast her a glance, or apologize, he just kept racing on ahead. She gasped and stepped back onto the main street and stood there watching him go.

"What in the world?" she asked, before she heard more hooves. This time she got out of the way again, and the ex-Sheriff Mr. Ashby came riding up only upon seeing her he stopped the horse, kicking up dirt and dust as he did. "Mr. Ashby what's happening?" Roxanne asked.

"Sheriff Scott's heading West, he ain't listenin' ta anythin' I been tellin' him!" the old man called to her as he started the horse into a trot, the young woman following along quickly while those people in the saloon began milling out, curious as to what was going on. "I tol' him 'bout the agreement but he's had enough, he said he's runnin' the Blue Devil outta town! Boy don't know WHAT he's gettin' himself into!" with that he jabbed his spurs into the horse, making it neigh and start galloping faster, trying to catch up with the white stallion already so far ahead.

"Ya hear that?" asked a man from the saloon door's, "Sheriff's goin' after the Blue Devil again!"

Roxanne heard the panic from those around her as they hurried to their homes and businesses, not wanting to be caught up if things were to happen to the town. What if the Blue Devil gave chase, and the town was set alight? Today very well could be the day that the good Sheriff would push the envelope as far as it could go, and cross a line that the two had respectfully took note of all these years? The thought of those horrible beasts attacking the town, trying to prove a point to never to mess with the Blue Devil again? Some brave souls even climbed onto their horses and raced off after the Sheriff and ex-Sheriff, forming a sudden posse. Roxanne had jumped back to the safety of her schoolhouse and watched them all ride off, feeling a sudden wash of dread crash down onto her. Something very bad was going to happen, she could feel it...

"This ain't how we do things!" Mr. Ashby screamed over the noise of the horses hooves, "What'll happen to the town, the people?"

The Sheriff was silent as he rode on, and the dirt underground began to harden under the horses hooves. That large mountain pass began to move closer to them the closer they got, and the ground was soon red dirt and nothing else. Mr. Ashby turned his head when he saw them riding on by the sacred burial grounds of the Indian tribe who used to one live here. They were getting further away from the town, closer to the bridge where the train crossed the gorge, and it was getting harder and harder to try and talk the young man into turning back. Then he heard the people following and he heard himself give a low groan of disappointment.

Now things really were out of his control.

The last thing Sheriff Scott expected as he got closer to the Blue Devil's hide out was an actual fence. He pulled his horse to a stand still as the metallic fence glistened in the sunlight, and stretched right across their path. There was a lone gate in the centre, with two words stamped onto it. "Devil Gate." Sheriff Scott read.

"Sheriff Scott," Mr. Ashby hissed as the rest of the posse approached. "I told you, it ain't how things work..."

"Mr. Ashby. I respect you as my tutor. You done raised me to obey the law but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Things have reached breaking point." Sheriff Scott replied grimly as he climbed off the horse and approached the gate. He reached out and grabbed it, then felt a bolt of... something passing through him. It startled him and he let go, and waved his hand before staring at it to discover the tips of his fingered gloves had been burned off.

"S'a more of his demon magic!" said one of the men still on their horses.

"Ain't gonna help him none." growled Sheriff Scott as he literally kicked the gate down. It was a mighty kick, like a giant mule, and the gate sparked again before tumbling backwards into the red dirt. He leaped back onto his horse and called out as he raced through the gate, and Mr. Ashby had no other choice but to follow after the four other men who had ridden through after him.

"Lord help me..." he mumbled to himself as that tall mountain range was almost upon them. He could see the homes built into the red mountain face, windows, doors, stairs... all of it had once been taken up by the Indians who had lived out here before that horrible night fifteen years ago. Mr. Ashby hated thinking about it, so he simply didn't.

They must have crossed some kind of boundary for the next thing they knew, the Coyote Bots were upon them. Eyes flashing red and jaws wide and snapping they came out of literally nowhere. They split up the riders easily, snapping at the horses legs to spook the poor animals into falling over or fleeing in the opposite direction in which their riders wanted. Pistols were drawn and bullets struck the metal hides of the Coyote Bots, and as the tales said the bullets were no match for their bodies. Sure, a stray bullet may chip their domed heads but not enough to kill them.

"BLUE DEVIL!" Sheriff Scott screamed out as he was finally close enough, though his horse was terrified of the metal monsters racing around it, toying with it. "COME OUT HERE!"

Then pitch black smoke began billowing out from the main entrance to the mountain face and Sheriff Scott saw him, riding atop his metal horse whose red eyes pierced the darkness. Blue Devil rode out in his black clothes, and looked honestly surprised. "Sheriff Scott," he said as he clapped his hands once and the Coyote Bots fell silent, but kept the posse held up, too far away to be of assistance to the man in white. "My word what a pleasant surprise... to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"This has got to end." Sheriff Scott simply said, before pulling out one of his guns, aimed it at the blue man and pulled the trigger.

The horse he was riding suddenly heaved onto its hind legs and the bullet bounced off of its metal. "Oh it's going to be like that is it?" Blue Devil snarled as he grabbed the reigns of the horse. "Let the game begin." he growled through his teeth as he bolted the horse forward, riding right at Sherriff Scott who aimed and shot once again but the horse was moving too quick. The Blue Devil rode right on past him, the white horse spooked by the smoke and the metal horse that it whinnied and got up onto its back hooves just like its metal counter part.

But Sheriff Scott got control of his horse and soon the two were embroiled in a good old fashioned gun fight, while riding their horses. The Coyote Bots were snapping at the posse, keeping them occupied and unable to follow the Sheriff to offer precious back up. For a brief second though, the Blue Devil rode right on past Mr. Ashby and the two locked eyes. Mr. Ashby could have shot him, cleanly, easily, but his hands remained on the reigns of his horse, trying to keep it calm and under control. The moment gone, he watched as the white and black figures rode off, vanishing quickly in the plumes of black smoke that followed the metal horse.

Drawing his own pistol, which glowed bright blue at its end and was just as mechanical looking as the back on Minion's robot body. He aimed it at the Sheriff and pulled the trigger and a flash of blue light streaked across the plains and it just missed the man in white. It happened again when the Sheriff aimed at the man, his bullet shooting clear through the rim of the black hat he wore leaving a definite hole in his hat. Blue Devil gasped and growled. "That was my favorite hat!" he called out.

"What a pity!" called back the Sheriff as he aimed again. This time the bullet ricocheted off of the horses neck and hit the dirt that was already far behind them. The steam horse made no sound at the impact, did not flinch, and continued to plough forward as Sheriff Scott's white horse panted to keep up with it. They suddenly reached a dip in the land and down they went, racing still. A loud sound suddenly caught their attention and both men looked to the right to see a train coming up along the train tracks. This was a freight train, only the driver on board, but many number of things being carried on it. Blue Devil made a pleased noise before he suddenly, and bravely, cut across in front of Sheriff Scott so sharply and quickly that the man in white had to force his horse to stop less the two animals (metal and flesh) accidentally clash. The black smoke from Blue Devil's horse choked the air out of the Sheriff but he forced himself onwards.

He was shocked at what he saw; Blue Devil had leapt from his horse onto the freight train and was climbing his way up onto the top of it. "What's the matter, Sheriff?" he called to the man in white, "Afraid to get your suit dirty?"

"Boy, law ain't bothered by gettin it's hands dirty!" Sheriff Scott called back to which the man in black laughed as he finally climbed onto the top of the train. He pushed his hat down hard against his head so it wouldn't go flying off. Aiming his gun again the Sheriff squeezed, and the bullet sailed; just missing Blue Devil's back.

"Come up and get me, Sheriff, if you want me gone that bad!" taunted the man in black as he began to hurry along the length of the train, heading for the engine at the front.

"Crab nuggets!" hissed Sheriff Scott as he squeezed his legs against the horses sides, the animal understood the gesture and rushed towards the train where the black metal horse had continued to run up against, not moving away. The second Sheriff Scott was close enough he jumped and for a moment it looked like he hadn't jumped far enough yet, despite that, he grabbed the end of the last train car. The white horse gave up the chase, breaking to a stop and panted heavily.

By now Blue Devil was half way to the engine of the train and spotted the gorge fast approaching. Oh this'll be a good show for those watching... he knew they were. His Coyote Bots would have let them get away from the property by now and they would be no doubt chasing after. Maybe they're pausing by that ridge he and his adversary had gone down, watching as the black and white figures climbed along the train. He quickly turned his head to check and sure enough he saw at least seven figures in the distance, watching.

A gun shot reminded him where he was and he ducked down flat against the roof of the car he was currently riding, grinning still. "So why the sudden attack, Sheriff? Did I step out of line?"

"You've got a hold of Miss. Ritchi," said the Sheriff as he began to walk down the length of the train, as if the wind rushing over him was no problem at all. Blue Devil backed away, eyes narrowing.

"I have no such thing! I saved her!" he shouted before turning and suddenly jumping as the next gun shot went off, just missing striking his head as he ducked down between the train cars. Clambering quickly he climbed around so he was grasping at the edge of the car and began working his way across, knowing the man in White would have to do the same to keep up with him. It was all about the show, wasn't it? That's what it was all about.

"You told her you own her life! You ain't owning any lady's soul from my town!" shouted the Sheriff as he jumped down to land between the cars and began climbing along after the figure of blue and black, whose poncho was blowing wildly in the wind that was rushing over the two of them. "So I'm giving you the opportunity to leave before I break every bone in your body, devil or not!"

"Hah! You'll have to catch me, first Sheriff!" laughed the man in black as he finally reached what he was after and leaped into the engine car of the train. The Sheriff gasped and climbed along quicker and witnessed the Blue Devil throwing the train driver from the engine. The young man tumbled, rolled, and landed on his front before groggily getting to his knees. Whatever it was Blue Devil was doing within the engine wasn't good since the large machine suddenly began to lurch forward faster than before. If it was going at this speed, and if it wobbled if just a little due to the rocking of the engine it very well might go hurtling over the edge of the train tracks and that gorge was growing closer, and closer. Gritting his teeth the Sheriff in white finally made his way to the engine car and found it deserted, the controls set to place. Did he have enough time to put the train into reverse and thus stop it?

"Look there he goes!" called one of the men with Mr. Ashby, pointing. The metallic horse had remained running along the train so when its master leaped out of the front train car it was there to catch him. With a large burst of black smoke the Blue Devil raced away from the train that was now going far too fast. But then a good half of it, not including the coal car and the main engine itself, began to fall back. He had loosened the pin entirely between them, saving the metal goods (no doubt for himself) and leaving the rest of the train to whatever destiny had in mind for it.

"What's the Sheriff doing?" asked another man, "Is he-"

"Oh no." Mr. Ashby knew what was going to happen the second before it did. There was the slightest curve to the track before it breached onto the gorge and that curve was all it needed. The blood red engine's wheels screeched loudly in the still air, the plume of smoke coming from its engine staining the sky as the wheels clanked, and the machine seemed to make a leap of faith. The men gathered stared, eyes wide as the engine car, and the coal, went flying off of the train tracks. For a second it seemed to suspend in mid air, frozen in time, before it went falling down into the gorge. The crash was incredibly loud, followed by another explosion as the fire ignited something else within the train. Black smoke billowed up into the air, far larger than that of anything the Blue Devil could give off or any train by itself.

The very ground seemed to rumble which caused the horses, already spooked from the Coyote Bots, into a fresh fit of whinnying. Their owners seemed at a loss of what to do at first, especially the younger men. Luckily the gorge beneath didn't have any trees or the like to catch fire but the fact alone that the train with their Sheriff within had just nose dived off of the tracks were a horrific thing to face. One of the men cried out in anguish, unable to hide the horror he had just witnessed.

"He did it." Mr. Ashby whispered to himself, having finally calmed his white grey horse and smoothed its mane as the animal shivered. "Jesus H. Christ he did it." he then realized this meant a shift of power, or at least a new position now available in the town. "Boys! Back to town, now!" he called, snapping the men out of their shock and grief. "We ride, now!" he turned his horse around and the animal bolted off with its rider, quickly followed by the other men. They were far gone by the time the Blue Devil who had been riding with a childish glee to his being, suddenly stopped.

He turned his horse around and looked to where the rail road was. Where was the Sheriff? Surely he hadn't... "Sheriff?" he called out, before moving his horse back to the edge of the gorge and jumped off. Behind him he heard approaching hooves, but he already knew it would be Minion. Nobody else would be coming out here with the Coyote Bots around to keep their master out of danger. The black smoke continued to climb up into the sky and no doubt it would be visible from miles around. Now this wasn't a new thing, he had sent many trains falling before but never... "Sh.. sheriff Scott?" Blue Devil called out again before peering over the edge. The twisted metal wreck met his gaze, at least what he could see between the black smoke and fire.

"You did it, Sir..." Minion finally spoke, getting off of his own horse to stare down into the gorge.

"I did it." Blue Devil said again, chest beginning to raise and fall as a strange, alien feeling washed over him. Achievement. Whilst he had recognition in the town, famous for being the Blue Devil, never had he suspected that this would happen. That foolish thorn in his side, the stupid Sheriff forever riding out to meet him despite the fear he should feel whenever he dare even think of the Blue Devil. Despite the agreement set up by his predecessor, he still raced out to do battle with him. With his gleaming smile, handsome features and his ability to stay clean and white despite living out in the middle of the desert. He was gone. The town was without a Sheriff. Without _the_ Sheriff. A strong gust of wind suddenly blew in from the North and something flew up out from the canyon and landed a few feet away from him; it was a white hat that was not as white as it once had been.

Quickly he dashed over and picked it up, and held it at arms length.

"Sheriff Scott's hat." he mumbled to himself, before breaking into a wide, happy smile. "He's gone, Minion. I did it. I did it! The town is _mine!_" Blue Devil screamed out across the gorge, his voice echoing along the depths of the rocks and the debris below. It went so far as to even startle some crows that were nesting across the gorge where the only dead trees remained. They took to the air, cawing loudly and in an annoyed manner at being disturbed before flying away into the blue sky that continued to bleed with the black smoke from the destroyed train. They flew out towards the town, reaching it long before the riders from the West got there first and cawed out loudly to announce their arrival and landed atop of the Sheriff's office.

This was a omen if there ever was one, the thirteen black birds landing along the metal roof and cawed still, flapping their wings at one another when one got too close for the others comfort. Across from the office some of the townsfolk stood while the rest had hurried to the edge of the town. Whilst they hadn't seen anything, now everyone from miles around could see the black plumes of smoke continually lifting up into the blue sky before slowly dispersing and melting away into nothing.

"This don't look good." said somebody.

"You think?" Bernard, who had left his saloon to join the crowd, asked as he too observed the sky.

The wind violently shifted, while it had been moving northwards it suddenly made a violent turn to a Westerly. Women's skirts lifted, hats were almost pulled from heads and tumbleweeds were shaken free from their roots and went tumbling away from the west, bringing with it red dirt with it. People shut their eyes to shield them from the dust, and the cows only cawed louder still as they settled more comfortably on the office roof. The events of the townsfolk were of little matter to them, as it always had be, always will. Even as the people began hurrying to the West as they finally saw the horsemen coming their way.

"What happened, what happened?" demanded most of the townsfolk as the men climbed down from their horses. Mr. Ashby hadn't yet arrived back, it seemed.

"Was horrible!" said a young man, whose name was Smith. "Those demons'a his, came outta nowhere 'n kept us apart from the Sheriff! Gotten into a gun fight they did ridin' their horses!"

"And he didn't get him?" asked Mr. Jenkins.

"Reckon he got his hat but just kept missin'. Next thing we know is they're off racin' 'n runnin' 'long that freight train that comes through every couple weeks. Sheriff's got Blue Devil on the run, ya see? He actually gets onto the train 'n... 'n..." Smith fell into silence and shook his head, bowing his head as he realized the ugly news they had to tell them.

"And? And?" asked an older woman.

"The Sheriff is dead." Mr. Ashby's voice startled everyone, and they all turned to see the old man returning on his horse, which was wheezing and in need of a drink and a rest. "He fell off the train as it too fell off the tracks. That's the smoke." he pointed to the thick black smoke in the air. The anguish that filled the air startled Roxanne, who was watching all of this from a few feet away. The Sheriff was dead? A train? Why had he stayed on a train that was going to go tumbling off of the tracks? What if Blue Devil had injured him? No. No, why would he do that? He wasn't as bad as people made him out to be, at least that's what she had seen, the way he had treated his Coyote Bots who had gathered around him and acted more like puppies than vicious demons. Blue Devil was calm, collected and spoke surprisingly well for somebody who had grown up out here. Was he just defending himself? The Sheriff and his posse had ridden out on account of her telling the truth about the rescue, maybe it all had been just a horrible accident?

"He's coming." Mr. Ashby's voice brought her back to reality. "I seen Blue Devil's comin' out of the West."

Roxanne immediately turned to stare towards the West where the smoke continued to raise up into the air, and the wind still blew violently out from. In the distance she spotted the two figures making their way out of the West. She didn't have to wonder what the shapes around them were, it was the Coyote Bots. It was like they were moving in slow motion, every step of the horses they rode upon took forever and a day, the glowing red eyes of the horses and the Coyote Bots cut through the smoke, and dust, making them look even more terrifying than before. She heard people exclaiming loudly, but seemingly too afraid to run. They were like frightened rabbits, unsure of whether or not they should freeze or run.

Whatever it was the Blue Devil was coming into town to do, or say, she hoped it was quick. And painless.

_To be continued_


	4. Chapter 4

The townsfolk gathered in closely together like a heard of cattle attempting to intimidate a lone wolf by appearing like a larger being. The children were pulled in close in the middle, though Damien kept fighting to try and see through the mass of people who were in his way. It wasn't normally allowed for him to see the Blue Devil as often as everyone else in town, his family was normally back home on the farm by the time he would ride into town each Wednesday. This was a golden opportunity he didn't want to miss out on, yet the women kept pushing him back. They gave surprised gasps as red beams of light shot out from the smoke, those red devil eyes of his robot beasts were scoping them out. No doubt trying to pick who had the best soul to take down to Hell.

Music suddenly erupted from the darkness as the outline of the Blue Devil was finally visible. Strapped to his demon fishes horse was a record player, though one the likes that nobody had seen before. It was much larger, and had multiple stereographs sticking out of it which pitched the noise of it even louder than normal. The song itself was unknown to them, loud, with a lot of guitars and the beating of an Indian's drum in the foreground. Then came the War cry of the red skinned people which, for the older generation of townsfolk, brought on memories of battles and war. Combined with the fact the Blue Devil himself was finally upon them, sitting atop his metal steed and staring at them all from beneath his wide brimmed hat made the situation even more terrifying.

He turned his head and nodded at the fish, who then lifted the pin on the music and it stopped dead. The only sound in the entire town was the cawing of those thirteen black crows, who continued fussing over the sheriff's office. Turning back to the towns folk the Blue Devil waited, quiet, as his Coyote Bots surrounded him, sniffing at the air, the ground, and edging closer to the group. Their intimidating jaws and eyes caused some women to whimper, and take as many steps back as possible. Only Roxanne stood out from the crowd, far enough away to be noticed but not so much to cause alarm to the townsfolk.

"My, my my." sighed the Blue Devil finally, tilting his hat back so he could get a proper look at everyone. "What a turn out." he chuckled as he tossed his poncho over his shoulder before leaping down from the horse. "And for little old me? Why. How kind." he smiled as he walked forwards, stopping in front of Mr. Jenkins and leaned in closer to him, and spoke quietly. "Your Sheriff is dead."

Despite it being whispered it felt as though he had screamed the words at the town. Roxanne turned her head to glance at the people, whose expressions wrenched at her heart. The Sheriff had been their guiding light, their protector and now he was gone. She quickly found Mr. Ashby's face in the crowd but the man was merely looking at Blue Devil with a forlorn expression on his face. She shuddered, her own heart aching at the death of a good man but still couldn't come to grips with the fact that the man who had gone out of his way to save her had just killed the Sheriff in cold blood. She looked back at him to see he was walking around the people slowly, his spurs clinking against the dirt as he walked.

"He didn't honor the agreement. Didn't he, Mr. Ashby?" he asked, locking eyes with the old Sheriff who only stared him down. Those green eyes that the old man had first seen all those years ago were so different now. No longer filled with innocence or fear. It had been replaced with anger, resentment, and jealousy. "You should have trained him better."

"He was the best." Mr. Ashby boldly replied.

"_HE WAS A FOOL!_" screamed the Blue Devil, "And you a bigger one for letting him become that smear on the gorge!" the Blue Devil suddenly turned his head as he heard a noise and before any of them could blink both of his guns were drawn and aimed straight at a young man who had tried to pull his own gun on the demon. The boys mother cried out and grabbed at his arms.

"Jonathan no, no he don't mean it, he don't mean it!" she begged the Blue Devil whose bizarre looking guns remained trained on the young man's head.

"You don't want to upset your mother. Mothers are important." Blue Devil whispered quietly to the boy, green eyes surprisingly calm despite the situation. "Put 'em down before I shoot you. Because the second your finger squeezes my dogs will rip you to pieces and everyone else."

Jonathan stared at the two barrels aimed at him, and he could feel the sweat running down his forehead and neck. Why had he done this? Staring at the reason now, he felt so foolish, so childish. Gun slinging wasn't for a boy his age yet knowing the Sheriff had died by this man's hands had filled him with such emotion his hand had moved before he'd even been aware of it. He very slowly lowered the gun, and his mother pulled him into her arms protectively, thanking the man in black for sparing her foolish son.

Blue Devil was about to move on but he froze, spotting a face amongst the crowd that somehow seemed... out of place. "You there." he said, pointing at the crowd. Roxanne tried to see who he was pointing at, but it was hard to tell from this angle. "No, you... yes, you. You. I recognize everyone's face here except yours. Who are you?" Roxanne didn't have to wonder who he was talking to when she finally spotted Hal Stewart's face moving slowly forwards through the crowd. "Hands up where I can see them." Blue Devil demanded, and Hal obeyed. The man looked terrified. "I don't know your face. Who are you, what are you doing here? Answer me!"

"H-Hal Stewart!" spluttered the red haired man, flinching as those weapons were drawn on him. "I jes' arrived today! M-my stage coach group was attacked, I was the only... only one ta get away 'n I found this place! I was almost outta water 'n everythin'!"

Blue Devil looked at him for a good, long time. For a moment it looked like he was about to shoot Hal right in the face for being a stranger to the town but he very slowly lowered the guns, but held them tightly in his grip. "Being new to town you must not know. I am the Blue Devil. I have killed the Sheriff of this town. It's mine now. If you want to keep your bodily fluids inside your body you'll stay out of my way. Put one wrong foot wronger still and I will put you in the ground. That goes for all of you!" continued the Devil as he began to return to walking around the group. "This is my town now. It's always been my town! Where's the mayor?" he suddenly asked, looking around, eyes scanning the crowd. "Bring me the mayor!"

Roxanne watched as one man, a clerk, hurried off and was closely followed by one of the Coyote Bots, ordered to do so in case he tried any funny business. Looking back at the man in black she suddenly strode forward, causing gasps of alarm and fear to echo in some of the people. She stopped besides him, eyes narrowed. "What do you intend to do to us? This town, these people?" she asked, almost out right demanding the answers.

Damien, meanwhile, finally managed to peek his head out from between his fellow townsfolk to get a good look at the man in black. To the boy he was a literal giant, despite being no taller than five foot something. The legend, the stories, everything he had heard about this man came rushing in and he wondered just how this blue man had gotten to this point in his life. Who had he stepped on, shot in the back, and double crossed to become such a frightening figure in the eyes of everyone in town? And Roxanne, he couldn't help but look to his future schoolmistress too. She was brave, for a woman, and he had thought his mother was brave the day she killed a rattler with a shovel out in the garden one morning. This, this was much bigger than a shovel and a rattler; this was her voice and the Blue Devil.

She saw the blue man's eyes light up with recognition at the sight of her, and he breathed in harshly before giving her a small smile. "I'm glad you asked. I'm glad at least one of you had the nerve to ask. I-ah! Mr. Mayor!" he pushed past Roxanne as a short, balding, fat man wearing a blue suit was being led through the crowd of people and followed by his clerk and circled by the Coyote Bot. "How was your day today, hm? Getting fatter off the land, charging your taxes and generally living in your high tower over there?" he gestured to the town hall, which was a fairly large sized building with a bell tower on top of it.

"Now listen here," started the Mayor, though it was obvious he was terrified. "This town ain't yours, it belongs to the people, for the people and-" he was silenced as Blue Devil pressed one of his guns to the man's forehead.

"It's mine." Blue Devil growled. "I'm taking over. Your services are no longer required. That fine thing over there," he jerked his head towards Roxanne, "Just asked what I intend to do. That's my plan. That's been my plan for years, ever since-"

"Since they all died." Mr. Ashby spoke up, which caused the Blue Devil to suddenly spin and swing one of his guns like a club at the older man. Mr. Ashby managed to swerve it just in time and grabbed the Blue Devil's wrist. The gun went off, and a sharp red light burst forth from the pistol and lit up the skies. The Crows took to flight again at the sight of it, but quickly resettled. The air was suddenly very tense, and at least ten of the Coyote Bots swarmed Mr. Ashby and their master, growling viciously. "This is what it's about isn't it?"

"Got nothing to do with it and you're showing how old and senile you are by bringing it up." growled Blue Devil.

"What...?" Roxanne asked.

"There used to be Injins." whispered Mrs. Doe, who had made her way to Roxanne as had some other women, as if hoping her bravery at confronting the man would spread to them. "Vicious savages who owned the land to the West. Filthy things the lot of them."

"What happened?" Roxanne asked quietly, watching as the old Sheriff and the man in black continued to glare at one another, silently daring the other to move first.

"He killed them all." said Mrs. Doe. "The night he first arrived here he was covered in their blood and screaming bloody murder. He done shoot 'n kill alla them, 'n proclaimed himself owner of the West land. That's when his attacks started ta happen." she explained quietly.

"Used to ride in, set things on fire, all manner of business." said another woman.

"Stole cattle, stole all sortsa things to settle in on the land. T'was horrible business." said an older woman. "He was so terrible back then. It's a wonder Mr. Ashby got any sorta agreement outta him..."

There was a sudden cry from the group which caused the women to look back, and saw that Mr. Ashby was on the ground, but he wasn't bleeding. Thankfully. "The old agreement is severed." Blue Devil hissed through his teeth before rounding back on the Mayor, taking a step towards the man. "I'm in charge now. Time to clear out your desk." he stopped and turned around to the group as he nodded his head to Minion who had remained on his horse all this time but he had pulled his own large looking pistol, and was aiming it at the crowd. Seeing the nod the fish replaced the gun and rode the large black horse past the other one, grabbing its reigns as he did.

"Now I'm not about to ask you all to start worshiping the Devil, renouncing God, or stop going to Church. You can all continue with your normal every day lives that you normal regular people do. Only know that this town is mine. You got disputes, you come to me. You got issues, you come to me. But if anyone tries to do harm against my demons or Minion you'll be in for a world of pain. Understood?"

There were sounds of agreement and nodding, and the Blue Devil actually backed away from them, as if expecting one of them to pull a gun on him despite all those Coyote Bots being around, ready to attack without mercy if anyone was foolish enough to pull one. He only turned around once reaching the town hall, and as the two metal horses were left standing outside he and the mechanical steam powered fish vanished inside and the door slammed shut behind them. Seconds later though the door opened again and the Blue Devil ran out to reach the Sheriff's office across the way. He grabbed the poster of himself and ripped it down, tossed it to the ground, before running back into city hall, once more slamming the door behind him.

It was hard to really focus on anyone at this point. Roxanne was aware the groups of people were in shock over what had just transpired before them. The Sheriff was dead, the Mayor had been replaced, and the Blue Devil was now living inside the City Hall. Some were whispering over the idea of burning the building down but then the Coyote Bots were there, growling savagely as if they could understand their words. Maybe they could? They were demons, after all, and who knew what else they were capable of. The actions of the dogs broke up the group quickly; the young children pulled into their mothers arms and carried home whilst the men left too; while one did try to kick one of the Coyote Bots he was suddenly set upon by at least two of them.

"This way," a voice said as a hand gripped Roxanne's arm and she was suddenly being pulled through the crowd. "Don't worry, it'll be fine, it'll be okay." reassured the voice though it was one she wasn't all together familiar with. Still, nice of the man who be that concerned for her to be taking her back... wait... no, away from the schoolhouse? Roxanne tugged at the grip but found it impossible to free herself. The person turned and she gasped to see that it was Hal.

"Mr. Stewart!" she cried, "What on Earth do you think you're doing?"

"Hey now calm down," Hal said in a voice that brought on nothing calm in herself at all. "It's gonna be fine. I know it's a frightful point, that freak takin' over but you'll be fine. Hal will keep you safe." he reassured her before reaching out with his free hand and brushed his filthy hand against her cheek. Roxanne shut her eyes and turned her head away before gritting her teeth at him.

"Let me go." Roxanne demanded, "Right now."

"No need bein' hysterical now." Hal's hand caressed her cheek now. "I know you're scared but you don't hafta be, not with me here." then he was moving into her, as if expecting her to fall into his arms all weepy and weak like but all he got instead was her free hand slapping him straight across the face. The full force of it surprised him, since she hardly looked the type, and his grip on her was lost.

"Don't you dare come near me again!" Roxanne said loudly, grabbing her skirts and spun around on the spot and stormed back out onto the Main Street. She wouldn't dare hang around to try and hear his excuse for his sudden thrusting upon her like that, it was downright dog like! No, no, that was an insult to dogs! Just as she was crossing the Main Street did a Coyote Bot suddenly approach her. Heart still pumping from the brief, though disturbing, and interaction with Hal she glared at the 'animal' who stared back at her. Then it leapt out, bit down at the edge of her skirt, and began to pull her towards the Town Hall. "What! No, don't you- ah!" she couldn't very well rip her dress now could she? So she accepted her fate of being taken to the Town Hall.

She hadn't been inside the Town Hall before. Once inside she was surprised to see how... well. Elegant it was. The floors were varnished wood, the walls cream and had multiple paintings and newspaper clippings framed and hanging there. She saw a map of the area up on the wall, their town outlined, and a skull with crossbones hovering over the West. There were seats to sit and wait for the Mayor to call you, as well as a desk where a receptionist no doubt sat during the day light hours... and when the Mayor was actually inside, in his office. Roxanne glanced up at some portraits on the wall of past Mayors, all of them fat, frumpy looking men with mustaches and thinning hair.

The Coyote Bot let her go and paused to scratch at its chin with its hind leg, the noise making her cringe. Roxanne glanced at the receptionists table and saw a sign reading 'Take a seat'. Normally one would, but seeing how there was nobody else in here waiting for service the young woman marched to the steps that no doubt lead upstairs to the second floor where the Mayor's office sat. The door was ajar and she pushed it open and stopped short, amazed at what she saw. Inside the walls were lined with book cases filled to the brim with books. They were covered by glass doors, protecting the books inside. Upon the floor was a giant bear skin rug, its maw open wide and snarling, as if ready to bite anyone who dare approach. Up above, hanging from the ceiling, was a chandelier not unlike those she had seen back home.

Then there were the windows, as tall as the walls were, and one opened so you could step out onto a verandah to look out over the town. This time, though, it was closed. Before it was a huge desk that looked terribly old but highly respectable. Sitting behind it, with his back to the desk, was the Blue Devil. Besides the desk she could see that he had removed poncho and jacket thus leaving him in only his shirt, vest and pants. Even his hat was off, revealing his huge blue head in all its majesty despite the high back of the chair. It was even larger than she had originally thought. In one of his hands that was barely visible thanks to the position he was sitting in she could see a round glass, full with something alcoholic if she were to guess from the red hue of the drink.

"Miss. Ritchi here to see you, Sir." Minion's voice made Roxanne jump and she spun, seeing the towering fish standing behind her. Had he been standing in the corner all the time after she walked in?

"Miss. Ritchi." the Blue Devil slowly spun around on the black leather chair, revealing himself. "We meet again."

She frowned at him, hands still gripping at her sides. "Blue Devil. How far you've come." she commented, glancing around the room. "So was this your plan all along, to take control of the city?"

"Yes." he replied before taking a slow sip of his drink. "Wine?" he asked.

"I don't drink." she replied.

"Good. Neither do I." Blue Devil set the glass down on the table and pushed it aside with his hand before leaning back in the leather chair and put his feet up onto the table, crossing them as he did.

"Are you going to tell me what happened out there?" Roxanne asked.

"Why would I?" he asked back, arching an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't want to keep things from the only life you've owned now do you?" she asked, arching one of her own back at him. This seemed to surprise him and he gave a small laugh, and placed his hands behind his large head and slipped his eyes shut a moment.

"Oh yes. Well you can hardly blame me for the untimely death of the town's hero now, it wasn't me who stayed on that train despite it going faster than it should and approaching the gorge. It was the Sheriff who remained on board, who didn't get off in time, and fell to his untimely death. Horrific, really. Black smoke everywhere." he lifted his hands to the air, wriggling his fingers as if giving a pantomime on how the explosion happened.

Roxanne swallowed. "Did he tell you why he came after you?"

"Yes. You." he replied bitterly, "But don't go feeling responsible for his death, Miss. Ritchi. Haven't you heard? It was the game we played. He would find a reason to ride out to meet me, since unlike him I honored the contract decided upon by myself and Mr. Ashby. I never came to town for any day but a Wednesday, to get my food. It was the beloved Sheriff who would feel I was responsible for some wrong doing and ride out to attack, and every time we would be evenly matched. He would return to the town, a hero despite not winning, and praised by all." Blue Devil snorted and looked aside. "Downright pathetic."

"...were you jealous, of him?" Roxanne heard herself ask though it had truly been meant to be thought comment instead of a spoken one.

Blue Devil looked at her, those green eyes wide with shock that she would ask him such a question. But he laughed, and slapped a hand on his knee. "You know I like you."

"Please don't." she sighed.

"No, no, I do." he stood up, not on the floor but the table, and looked down at her. "You're not afraid of me at all. Do you know how many people in this town aren't afraid of me? Now I need two fingers. Used to be just one, and then it was two, now it's two all over again." Blue Devil stared down at her before jumping off the table and landing before her, hands to his waist as he slowly began to walk around her. "Now, I saved your life. That means you're safe from me. I may be the bad guy but I do obey certain rules and regulations. You'll have nothing to fear from me, Minion, or anyone under my command."

"How thoughtful." Roxanne commented, watching him carefully. "Why?"

"I said. I like you." Blue Devil said. "Not often you meet a young woman as assertive. It's impressive. It's interesting. You... remind me of someone."

"Who?" she asked.

"Never you mind."

"...what _are_ you?" Roxanne whispered, and she saw as he froze all over mid step and stared at her. Hadn't anybody asked him such a question before, or if they had, had he gunned them down to asking such a thing of him? She had so many questions she wanted to ask him. If he _had_ indeed killed all the Indians that had been living in the West, where he now called home. If he'd killed half the men that people claimed he did. How was it that she got the feeling that he and Mr. Ashby knew more of each other than they were letting on? She had heard the statement the old man had made, outside. Somebody had died. The Indians? But the women said he had killed them. Unless the stories were wrong. What if it was all wrong?

Blue Devil glared at her before walking to desk and picked up the glass of wine and sniffed at it before taking a drink from it. "What am I?" he asked her in return, turning his head to look at her. Those green eyes were now emotionless, giving nothing away. No anger, remorse, pain, resentment, nothing. It was very eerie, and for the first time since she first saw him on Wednesday did she feel something like fear being near him.

"...when does your job start?" he asked.

"Pardon me?" Roxanne hadn't anticipated the subject change.

"Teaching the kids." he turned away and walked to the large windows and looked down at the town below. The street was deserted, and one could probably hear a pin drop. "That's why you're here, isn't it?"

"Yes. It is. I was. I was going to start Monday." Roxanne replied, "Being it a Monday and classes always start on a Monday but now..."

"Continue your plan. Just because I'm here doesn't mean it should no longer happen." Blue Devil cut her off, turning his head to look at her. "Education is important out here. I told you, to continue living the way you normally do. That includes... shool." he mispronounced the word as he looked out the window and reached up and pressed his hand to the glass. "You can go now."

Roxanne opened her mouth to protest, but Minion easily took hold of her arm and easily guided her outside to the entrance area. The feel of the metal hand on her made her freeze up momentarily, before glaring up at the fish who was staring ahead. "You know it's not right for him to waltz in here and declare himself the boss." she said.

The fish shrugged before reaching the main door and pulled it open. "Hope your classes go well, Miss. Ritchi." the fish told her before closing the door behind her. Filled with the feeling of being treated rudely Roxanne turned and tried to open the door again, only to find it locked. Shocked, she gasped, and then frowned at the doors angrily. Remembering suddenly, that there was a stranger around who had taken a liking to her, she spun around and tried to spot him. She wouldn't put it past him to be watching her; he just gave that disturbing vibe you had when meeting some people. Judging by the looks of it, many people had retreated to the safety of the safety of the saloon, no doubts wallowing in their sorrow.

Striding over she walked in and sure enough, more than half the towns people were inside, sitting around the tables, but there were no cards being played... or anything along those lines. The air felt heavy and depressing, and she almost strained by the emotional thickness to the air. She stood in the doorway a moment before taking a sigh, and walked on through.

High above the town, standing in the windows, was Blue Devil. He had watched the figure of Roxanne Ritchi cross the street with purpose to the saloon and head on in. Holding the glass tightly in his grip he trailed his free hands finger around the rim of the glass, filling the air with a thin, high pitched noise. Minion, standing near the desk, winced at the noise and wish he would stop doing that. But it wasn't his place to tell him off, today was a good day, a great day. Sheriff Scott was finally gone, the town was theirs, and everyone was as scared of them as they should be. Save for Mr. Ashby and Roxanne Ritchi, but you couldn't win them all now could you?

"Beautiful isn't it?" Blue Devil suddenly spoke, in particular when he saw the last of Roxanne vanish into the saloon. "I've never had a view before... or windows..." he whispered more to himself as he lifted his hand and pressed the black leather gloved hand to the glass. "Win... dow..." he echoed the word again. He ran the hand along the glass and smiled faintly at the squeaking noise before setting the glass down on his table again but returned to the window, pressing both hands to it. "The town, Minion. It's finally mine."

"Yes, Sir." Minion smiled at his boss as he walked up to stand besides him and over looked the town in the setting sun. Long shadows fell over the buildings and main road, being contorted by the dying sun. It was beautiful in its own special kind of way.

"If. If my parents and family could see me now." Blue Devil whispered quietly, lifting his gaze to the skies above that were beginning to darken in color, welcoming the night and the shining stars with it. "Do you think they'd be proud of me?"

"Very proud, Sir." replied Minion firmly, nodding his little body in the water. "I know I am."

The blue man laughed and leaned closer still and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. "...still won't fix anything. In the end." he mumbled as his eyes slid shut and he let out a deep sigh that fogged up the glass, leaving a perfect imprint of his hands and forehead that had remained pressed to the glass. "But...!" he pulled back and grinned to himself. "Mr. Goody Two Shoes is out of the way, finally. After all these years, he's finally gone! Oh Minion, did you think this day would ever come?"

"Never. No, never. Not in a million..." Minion trailed off and saw the look that his boss was giving him and gave a cheeky, embarrassed grin with his rows of pointy teeth. "Yes, I did."

Blue Devil laughed and punched his friend in the mechanical arm, regretting it immediately after and shook his hand painfully. "Well. Let's check out our new commode, shall we?" he asked as he grabbed the glass of wine again and began to walk from the office.

"We shall!" Minion grinned as he hurried on after his boss before suddenly jarring to a stop. "Oh. Uh. Sir? Malfunction."

"Again?" asked the blue man as he walked over and pressed his hand to one of the components on his companions back and jumped away suddenly, yelping, since it felt like he had just shoved his hand into a fire. "Ah! You're over heating!" he said in an almost panic-stricken way. Rushing to the table he once again placed his glass down and grabbed the white crystal jug that sat on a tray that was full of water. Grabbing that, and a material placemat, he returned to his friend and quickly unscrewed a cap on a cylinder that was fixed to his back. "Hold on, hold on..." Blue Devil tilted his head away as he began to pour the whole contents of the water into the canister. Steam erupted from multiple points on Minion's back, some of it getting on the Blue Devil no hard he tried. Quickly re-screwing the cap he set the jug down before pulling a small device from a back pocket. It was a small wrench. He began tightening up some loose nuts and bolts, muttering as he did. "I think I'm going to have to re-work your entire design Minion, this is happening far too often..."

"I know Sir. There was a lot happening today I didn't want to bother you." the fish replied as he peered down his back at his boss who continued working on his suit.

"Try moving now." Blue Devil said as he stood back and wiped his forearm against his massive forehead. He watched as Minion very slowly moved his arm, then other arm, and finally his legs. "Excellent. Now, before we were so rudely interrupted... tour?" he asked, grinning as he headed for the door once again, glancing over his shoulder to his one and only true friend and companion.

"Tour." Minion smiled happily and the two outlaws dashed out like a pair of excited children into the City Hall to explore each and every room.

They got to see where the indoor toilet was (how fancy!), the bedrooms (so elegant and fancy pantsy!) and the trophy room that had every decoration that somebody within the town would win in any upcoming events. There were brown and white photographs on display as well, along with portraits and paintings. Minion was observing one of a river flowing when he paused and spotted that his boss had stayed a few paces behind him, staring at one painting in particular that he hadn't really stopped to look at. Backtracking, he stopped and saw what the painting was. It was of a group of Indians sitting by a fireplace, their earth houses behind them, and it looked like one of the older women were telling a story to the younger ones. Blue Devil stood there, staring at the painting, a wistful expression on his face.

"...when pyre and body had been consumed, they buried the ashes of Thoshipa in the sand and left the place, migrating south of the Mohave, where they made their home on the bank of Havil." grandmother said, settling back in her seat by the fire.

Around her, four children no older than five years each stared at her, having just learned the story of how things came to be. How Mother Earth and Father Sky had two children who created the land, the oceans, rivers, and people along with all manner of creatures both feathered and not. "Now my children, it is time for you to go to sleep." she added, to which three of them began to complain but were soon ushered away. As she stood up she paused and realized one had remained behind. "Blue Sky, why are you not back in bed?" she asked.

The little boy, eyes green and round and skin a brilliant blue, blinked and looked up at the grandmother. In his lap a tiny ball holding his fish, who he had named Minion. "Grandmother," he spoke quietly, "Who made me?"

"Hm?" she asked.

"I. I am different." Blue Sky whispered as he glanced around their family group, watching his friends being gathered up by their parents and being taken to their earth houses. They were basically domed homes made of dirt, sand, glass, mud, anything that would keep it up. News was though that they were moving a little more Northern to a home built into the rock face of the mountains near by; but it took a lot of effort to move a whole group of people. It took planning and while everyone was excited, Blue Sky was scared of the move. "I... I am blue. Not red. I do not think Thoshipa _or_ Kokomat made me or my people."

"Blue Sky," grandmother moved to him and knelt down before him, and he could hear her bones creaking at the effort. "You are a gift to us from Father Sky. You are he and Mother Earth's special child. It is plain to see," she reached out and ran a thumb over his cheek. "You are blue like your father, and your eyes are as green as your mother can be. Just because you do not look like us does not make you a stranger to us."

Blue Sky frowned still. He was at that age when you began to really notice the differences in people. And how more obvious can you get, when your skin was as blue as the sky and your family all had skin like that of the earth beneath their feet? While he wasn't teased for it, the parents wouldn't allow it, he still felt left out of some things. He heard their folk tales, the stories of creation and the Gods, Father Sky and Mother Earth but it all felt like it wasn't really his to know, or to own. Lifting his gaze to the grandmother she could see the confusion in the boy's face. She gave a low chuckle and got up, taking one of his hands as she did so he stood besides her. "You are still part of our family. And we will always be here to protect you."

"I do not need protection." the stubborn child said as he puffed his chest out proudly, despite his uncertainty.

She laughed. "Of course not. But when you are older you will become a man, will take on a position in our family and make one for yourself. And we will be proud no matter what you do."

"Really?" Blue Sky asked, peering up at the old woman.

"Always." she said.

"Sir?" Minion's voice suddenly brought Blue Devil out of his painting educed memory and he shook his head. "Sir, are you all right?"

"Yes, of course I am!" Blue Devil snorted as he pushed against his large friends forearm. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm finally out of the West, I'm in the town and I'm in charge of it and they're all terrified of me! As they should be. Things are as they were supposed to be, Minion. And it's about time." as Minion began heading back down the hallway he let his green eyes quickly shift to the painting once more, resting on the image of what, one day, had been home. "About time." he mumbled before following after the fish. It had been a long day, a tiresome one at that. The death of the Sheriff was still a bright star in his life, an achievement he could be proud of. One he would_always_ be proud of. He couldn't let images of the past get in the way of achieving his dream today.

Otherwise, where would he be?

He bid goodnight to Minion and soon found himself alone in the elegant, highly decorated room of the mayor. The bed was a four poster made of red wood, the mattress soft and plumped with goose down as well as the feathers. Around him were pieces of furniture, a fancy writing desk, a set of drawers that held clothes that wouldn't fit him in a million years (they were massive, he could easily stand in just one leg of the mans trousers), and a cupboard on the wall that held many kinds of rifles. As he began to remove his own clothes, tossing them over the chair by the writing desk, Blue Devil happened to spot the body length mirror in the corner that he hadn't picked up on previously. Standing here now, in only his long black shirt and vest, he made his way over to it.

In his reflection he could see past him a portrait of the mayor back when he was younger, thinner, the way he had appeared the first time Blue Devil laid eyes upon him. He looked back at himself, blue, thin faced, and that large head. Sighing, he shrugged off his vest and tossed it with the rest of his clothes before finally unbuttoning his black shirt, revealing scars to his back and chest. Nobody grew up on the open plains of the West without sustaining some injuries, and he was no different to any others. There were even some bullet wounds, sustained years ago, but had obviously not caused serious injury with the blue man. Sighing to himself he grabbed the blanket of the bed and yanked it off entirely. Shaking it out he then laid it out upon the floor before quickly grabbing his two guns and placed them down on the floor besides it. It wasn't long (he had to use the inside rest room and wash his face and hands after) before he was getting down on top of the blanket, and wrapped it around himself tightly.

Blue Devil had no use for comfortable, fluffy beds like the type people used. A mattress? They were just far too uncomfortable for him. To a man who had grown up out in the elements with the people of the land, all he needed was something to wrap himself in and a floor and he could sleep. Rolling onto his side he shut his eyes, one of his hands resting permanently on one of the guns at his side, and was soon fast asleep.

~*~

"To Sheriff Scott. May God bless him."

All the people in the saloon lifted their glasses, save for one who was already drinking his down while sitting in the corner. Hal then spotted how everyone was holding theirs up and echoed their motions before going back to drinking the second he could do so without getting into any trouble. For him, it was impossible to be sad for a man he didn't know, or even see. From what he had heard the man was a pillar of strength, tall, handsome, impressive and a great shot. Hal was glad he was dead, since without him around things would be much easier.

"Still can't believe it." Mr. Jenkins said as he nursed his whiskey in his hands. "I always feared this day would come but... never thought I'd see it."

"Horrible, simply horrible." sighed Mrs. Doe, shaking her head.

"What a way to go." Jonathan said.

Bernard stood behind his bar, looking down at the drink in his hand. He said nothing. Meanwhile Mr. Ashby was nursing his own drink now, swishing it around within the glass. The man had been quiet since his altercation with the man in black, and whilst he wasn't hurt it seemed his pride was. That, or something far more important. Meanwhile the (now) ex-Mayor was sitting near the bar and looking absolutely furious.

"Fifty years my family's been watchin' this town and what happens? Demons had ta ride in on my time, mine! I'm gonna go down in history as the man who let a wanted fugitive take over his town! Probably drinkin' my wine and sleepin' in my bed, smokin' my cigars like he owns the place!" he fumed to anyone who would listen, and it seemed had one in the shape of his clerk and receptionist.

The young woman sighed, shaking her hand. "Horrible business, Sir."

"I still dun see why we can't ride on in there guns blazin' 'n shoot the man." said the clerk, to which the receptionist scoffed.

"What town have you been livin' in all yer life, Jeff?" she asked, narrowing an eye. "In case you ain't noticed, he happens ta have a whole dang army of monsters 'n demons lurkin' the streets now! We even go near the place with our guns ready they'll be on us like vultures on a dead lamb!" she even went so far as the smack him right in the arm with her fist, causing the young thin man to flinch and rub at the wounded arm.

"Ow, Maryanne, you don't hafta be so rough." grumbled Jeff.

"Seems I do." she replied flatly.

"Mr. Ashby?" Roxanne asked, as she approached the man who had settled himself at the far end of the bar, as if trying to remove himself from the congregation of people that were taking place around him. "Excuse me, Mr. Ashby?" she asked again when he didn't seem to stir.

"Hm?" he lifted his head and looked at her, before smiling faintly at her. "Why Miss. Ritchi... you doin' all right?" he asked.

"As well as I can." she replied as she pulled a stool closer to him and sat upon it, hands in her lap. "It really is a terrible business... And I can't help but shake the feeling that this is all of my doing."

"Your doin'?" Mr. Ashby asked, tilting his head faintly. "Now why in the world are you feelin' responsible fer what happened?"

Roxanne looked down at her hands and shrugged her shoulders simply. "I admitted some truths to the Sheriff last evening, and he got terribly angry when he learned about how I survived my tussle with the rattle snake and the cart."

"How... hm?" Mr. Ashby sat up more, looking at her now. "Ah. Yes... he tole' me 'bout that. Blue Devil saved yer life, yes?" he asked, keeping his voice hushed so nobody else could over hear the conversation. Roxanne nodded. "Thing is, Miss. Ritchi, don't you go feelin' bad or sorry for yourself on account of what happened ta Sheriff Scott. Point is, him 'n Blue Devil were always fightin' one another. It's been that way for years, though each time we were 'fraid that he'd meet his end... well. No man can live forever out here. Not even the best of them."

She nodded slowly and looked away, shutting her eyes as she exhaled. "Is that why he so badly wanted to know the truth?"

"I reckon. He had a way of sniffin' out false things. Like a dog that boy was..." Mr. Ashby trailed off, and smiled. "Hm. Just like a dog. Once he got his teeth in somethin' he wouldn't let go. That included Blue Devil. My word it did."

"Mr. Ashby, I heard some interesting things today." Roxanne started, "And I need some verification on some of the facts."

"Shoot." he replied before taking a sip of his drink.

She waited patiently for him to swallow before continuing. "When the Blue Devil came into town you met him head on. You asked him if it was all about when 'they' died and some women around town told me it was about a bunch of Indians. That he slaughtered them, before beginning his attacks upon the town. Now... did he kill them, and planned to kill everyone here, to take the land and make it his own? Or what?"

Mr. Ashby sat there, nursing his now empty glass. "Come with me." he said as he stood up and began making his way through the crowd. Roxanne was surprised by this, and quickly got up and hurried after him. Bernard watched the two leave, before retrieving both of their abandoned glasses in order to clean.

The air outside was sharp and biting, far more than she would have thought for this time of evening. But the sun was now gone, and she could see a single light on in the city hall, and she couldn't help but wonder how the man was settling if at all. Was he proud of himself? Happy? To have everyone gripped in a fist of fear? Or did he feel sorry for them, did he even feel compassion? The way she had seen him interact with that fish Minion, and his Coyote Bots... he seemed like an ordinary man. He spoke with a regular voice, he cast a shadow... he was just blue. And from somewhere not of here.

"Beautiful isn't it." Mr. Ashby said, and Roxanne turned to look at where he was staring. He was looking Westward, the tall mountain face stood in the distance, where the Blue Devil once called home. "That's where they lived for a while."

"They?" Roxanne asked quietly as the two began to walk down the street together. Around them, Coyote Bots were watching but not moving any closer. They were like guards on patrol, ready to pounce given the opportunity. "You mean the Indians?"

He nodded. "Peaceful folk, really... though, course, durin' the warin' years they were as rough as you could get. Horrible messy business the war. They were left with not much to work with but they managed, ya know? Livin' off the land, comin' into town now 'n then for help. Not much was given. Even with things changin' in America this town ain't changed that much. Both a blessin' 'n a curse." Mr. Ashby sighed as he lifted a hand and scratched the back of his neck.

"Mr. Ashby, what happened? They died. Was it Blue Devil who killed them all?" Roxanne asked. "Because... I've seen him, alone, with just him and his 'monsters'. They don't act any meaner than any regular type of animal and he himself well." she trailed off and gave a small shrug. "He doesn't appear to be as cruel and villainous as everyone has made him out to be and I have to wonder if most of the things about him are rumors and nothing more."

"You're a real smart lady, y'know that Miss. Ritchi?" Mr. Ashby asked, glancing at the woman and giving her a soft, fatherly smile as she blushed faintly at his compliment. "You're intuitive. You're curious. 'N like Sheriff Scott, you don't seem to wanna let go of this bone you've dug up fer yourself."

"I just want to know the truth." she replied, brushing a loose hair behind her ear.

He smiled and finally came to a stop, his eyes moving back to that of the West. Taking a deep sigh, he spoke finally. "'Bout fifteen years ago a gang came ridin' through. Now as I said, this area ain't changed much despite the world 'n America changing. They was smart, and they needed money. South of us were a town where they paid money for Indian scalps, still. Good money too. Bunch of savages." Mr. Ashby frowned, before continuing. "They got the jump on 'em from what I saw when I got out there to investigate. They put up a good fight, course they did, but what's done was done. Practically whole tribe wiped out in a night, scalps gone."

"How did you find out, did they ride through here?" Roxanne asked, feeling quite sickened by the fact that only fifteen years ago people were still doing such horrible and atrocious things. And to a whole family of Indians too, who from what she had gathered had done no harm to anyone since the wars.

"No, like I said. Smart. They kept goin', to go 'n collect their money."

"So how did you find out?" she pressed on.

"..._he_ came to town." Mr. Ashby said gravely.

"Blue Devil." Roxanne confirmed.

Nodding, he continued. "He'd survived, somehow. Seems his appearance scared them good but didn' stop 'em shootin' him in the stomach. Poor skinny thing came stumblin' into town screamin' and bleedin' blood everywhere. I." he paused, and sighed. "I patched him up 'n hid him, so the townsfolk wouldn't do the same to him that they did to the Indians. I rode out there, hopin' to find a survivor but... no. They'd killed alla them. The women, the men, even the lil' kids. All that was left of em was that blue kid and his fish. But t'weren't nothin' we could do. The gang was already moved on 'n dispersed by the time I sent a posse South to apprehend 'em fer murder. That's when Blue Devil turned. He blamed the town fer their deaths, that if t hey weren't so hung up on whose land was whose then his family'd be alive."

"Family." Roxanne echoed.

"They dun raised him from a baby. Him 'n the fish." Mr. Ashby continued. "I still dun know where he proper came from but they called him their gift. Gift from Father Sky. His name used to be Blue Sky but well. You can see what it got changed to. It stuck. He started causin' trouble, wrattlin' cages, stealin' things..."

Roxanne fell silent as he continued, explaining how Blue Sky transformed into the Blue Devil, pillaging and causing havoc for the town. How he lorded over them, stealing goods from the town and started building his monsters and demons to back up the name he had made for himself. She tried to imagine what it would feel like, to have your entire family wiped out by a team of bandits before your eyes, only to have no justice done. They'd gotten away with genocide, not just murder, leaving a lone boy to pick up the pieces and look at what happened to him. He'd turned his back on the world out of anger and spite, and become something that may not have been meant to be.

"So that's it." Mr. Ashby said quietly. "Once he could walk 'gain he went back out there, 'n tended to the bodies in their ways. You could see the smoke for over a week..." he could clearly remember it. The white-grey smoke slowly trailing into the skies, each plume that being of a body being burned on a pyre and being over looked by the single remaining member of the family. Course, people in town believed it to be him opening up ways to Hell to access the souls of the Indians he had killed to house them in his monsters and beasts. All of them were too scared to even ride out to investigate, like he had, and if they had they would have seen the small boy wearing ceremonial clothes for a grown man looking even baggier on his thin, small frame, burning his family as was the way.

Course then Blue Devil had made him leave, not wanting him to watch. It wasn't a 'white mans' place to witness an Indian pyre burning, and he had been so angry and upset the Sheriff had done it out of respect. Now he wish he had stayed. The boy had needed somebody, back then. Somebody to hug him, to tell him things would be all right, but he hadn't. Why hadn't he? He didn't even know now, looking back upon it all.

"So he's been all alone, outside of the fish and his... hrm. Pets?" she glanced over her shoulder as a Coyote Bot crept a little closer but then turned and fled, when it saw her looking at it. "If that is what you can call them."

"Built everythin' himself. Course, most of the material came from trains he robbed, 'n places he'd raid fer metal. Oh he is a bad man, Miss. Ritchi. Don't go thinkin' otherwise. Just makes you think though, just what made him into it. Was it destiny? Chance? Fate? Or did he pick it fer himself, because it felt like the right thing to do? I don't know. I couldn't ask him such things, no one could. Not even you, I see that look in yer eyes. A man's history is his business, 'n I just let you know cuz you're a smart one. You deserve to know the truth."

"Did Sheriff Scott know the truth?" Roxanne asked. "When did he come into things here? Was it after the murder of the Indians, or before?

Mr. Ashby fell quiet at that question. He sighed, and looked at her. "That, lil' lady, is best left for another time. I will not besmirch the name of a man who died today. Just ain't the time." he turned and placed his hand to her back, moving her with him. The touch surprised her and she took in a startled breath. He didn't miss this, and looked at her. "You're a bit jumpy. Don't you worry, Miss. Ritchi. I'm a gentleman, 'n far too old fer that stuff."

"It's not that." she said, apprehensively.

"Somethin' troublin' you, Miss. Ritchi?" he asked, quite easily picking up on the distress in the woman's voice and how she was carrying herself.

"I'm a little concerned, is all." Roxanne replied.

"'Bout?" he asked.

"Mr. Stewart, the new comer." Roxanne explained. "Just. Something that he said today doesn't sit right with me. I remember him saying something about family one moment, then the next he said he had no family with him. And. He's been a little 'fresh' with me."

"Fresh..." Mr. Ashby didn't like that word at all, and his eyes narrowed. "He's been makin' moves on you already?"

"Only slight ones but from where I come from a gentleman doesn't simply touch a woman like that. It's unorthodox and terribly rude." Roxanne said, putting her hands together. "I can clearly see he's sweet on me but I have no interest in a man who... well. You've seen him. Doesn't he strike you as odd, too?"

"That he does." nodded Mr. Ashby as the two of them walked past the saloon, where there was some drunken singing going on. seemed drinking to Sheriff Scott had brought on a bit of a mourners party. "Tell you what. I'll keep my eye on him, 'n see if he's up to somethin' cuz to be honest I dun care much for the look of him either. So don't go worryin' your pretty little head, Miss. Ritchi. You got a schoolhouse ta run, 'n you can't let someone like Hal Stewart disrupt that. Or what's goin' on. Kids need ta learn."

"Funny. He said the same thing." Roxanne smiled faintly to herself, but also quietly. When Mr. Ashby asked if she said anything she shook her head for no. "You're right Mr. Ashby. Of course you are. I must go, though. I need my rest. We all do." she glanced back at the saloon, then Mr. Ashby. "Thank you for tellilng me all of this. I greatly appreciate it. It's certainly helped... put things into perspective."

"Happy to be of service. 'N it helps, ta finally get those things off me chest." he replied, nodding before stepping away from her. "You sleep well, Ms. Ritchi."

"You too Mr. Ashby." she smiled and turned and walked to the schoolhouse, full aware that the old man was watching her go. He was probably worried for her now because of what she had told him about Hal, or just maybe a little on edge like she was because of the glowing Coyote Bots that were still roaming the town's main street. But they were of no concern to her, she had no guns on her to speak of and the Blue Devil had told her they would never harm her. Roxanne was suddenly entertained by the notion of Hal trying to make those moves on her a second time in the presence of the mechanical canines and just what they'd do to him. The idea made her give off a small, bemused laugh before she stopped herself and returned to her house to sleep off the excitement, and sorrow, of the day.


	5. Chapter 5

The following days for the small town with no name was that of great caution and fear. Having a demonic outlaw suddenly in charge had sent many of them racing for the chapel on the first day, spending their times within the sacred walls in hopes of using their faith as a means of driving the Blue Devil back down to Hell. When this didn't happen the father there claimed it was a test for them, a test of their faith and belief in Heaven All Mighty and the Creator. He assured them that as long as they had their faith and love of God that the demon known as Blue Devil wouldn't be capable of hurting them or even stepping foot within the Church. Roxanne, being raised a proper religious lady, had attended mass that Sunday and found the fear mongering and outrageous claims by the man in black on the pulpit, but still said her prayers and asked for forgiveness about the unpleasant thoughts she had been aiming at Hal Stewart who had been tailing her throughout town each and every day.

The unsightly gentleman didn't seem to have God in his heart either since he never appeared in the Church along with majority of the townsfolk. This pleased Roxanne on some level, since she wouldn't end up sitting next to the filthy man and put up with his desperate and pathetic attempts at charming her. If he wanted to charm anyone, much less her, he should go and stick his head in a water trough to at least wash his hair and face which from the looks of things hadn't seen a bar of soap in years.

"'Scuse me, Miss. Ritchi." Mr. Ashby's voice pulled her from her contemplations over Hal Stewart dunking his head in a water trough, and she glanced up at him.

"Oh, Mr. Ashby. Of course not." she shifted down on the pew, making way for the older man.

"Still preaching about how faith will push the Blue Devil out?" he asked as he set his hands in his lap. "He's been singing the same song for fifteen years now."

"Fifteen years?" Roxanne asked, blinking in surprise, before looking around her at the townsfolk. "My word. I would have thought he would think of new material after so long..."

Mr. Ashby fought the urge to laugh, covering his mouth and coughing into his hand harshly. Lowering his hand he shook his head. "You're a wily one, Miss. Ritchi. No wonder he's taken such a keen interest in you."

"Are you meaning our new mayor and Sherriff or Mr. Stewart?" Roxanne asked, keeping her voice low so not to be overheard by anyone.

"Both I figure. Makin' yourself a reputation it seems." pointed out Mr. Ashby.

Roxanne flushed gently, and looked down at her hands. She didn't particularly care for the notion of the towns folk gossiping about her and the fact that the Blue Devil had called her purposely into his new office just the other day. Combine that with the fact that people believed he now owned her soul she was surprised that nobody fainted dead at seeing her walk into the Church this morning. Granted she did hear her fair share of gasps and mutterings nobody fainted, at least none she saw. If they knew he 'liked' her, the way he had claimed so, what would they do to her? Would they even let her teach their children anything? Then being sent out here would be a big fat waste of time and all that effort she put into cleaning up the school house would be for naught.

"Don't worry." Mr. Ashby said with a faint smile. "You'll be fine."

"Fine from what?" Roxanne wondered aloud, maybe too loud, since the people in front of her turned to hiss a 'shush!' at her. Blushing brilliantly now, Roxanne lowered her head and frowned. This was all that Blue Devil, Blue Sky's, fault. If he hadn't taken such an interest in her then her reputation wouldn't be under the magnifying glass like this. But on the other hand she couldn't help but feel somewhat flattered that he would be like that to her, that he would be taken by her sometimes brash nature and honesty instead of fly into a rage like she would have thought him to do. Sometimes she was quite pleased to be wrong about things.

"And so my friends, bow your heads and we'll bring our mass to a close with the Lord's Prayer." said the Father, raising his hands to call attention to himself.

Just as those gathered lowered their heads to do such that, the doors to the Church were suddenly kicked open. This startled those gathered in the back, who jumped to their feet and moved away from the doors. Roxanne heard a woman scream and as she turned to peer through the crowded pews she could see why.

At least two of the Coyote Bots had hurried in, sniffing along the ground. Their glowing heads were as eerie as ever, and the children who had been sitting near the isle were snatched up by their mothers quickly since that mechanical monstrosity known as Minion came lumbering into the Church closely followed by the blue man dressed in black. If anything, Blue Devil looked curious as he looked around the House of God, tilting his head this way and that as his eyes took in the sight of it all and seemed to be all but oblivious to the fact it was full of people.

"Demon!" shouted the Father as he stalked down the isle, coming to a stop near the two figures and seemed to ignore the two Coyote Bots who growled as he approached. "Vile creatures born of Satan's Womb you have no power here! This is a house of God and I cast you out! Be gone!" he waved his hands at Minion and Blue Devil with such an intensity and ferocity that Roxanne half expected them to be literally pulled out of the Church by invisible strings.

Of course, they didn't.

"Keep it down, this is a Church isn't it?" Minion asked as Blue Devil walked boldly around the man of the cloth and set his hands on his hips as he looked over the people as he walked past them. Roxanne could all but see the glee on his face as he saw them all shy away from him, still, and sighed to herself. Was he just doing this to prove a point?

"Well. So this is what you people do on a Sunday." Blue Devil commented as he got to the front of the Church, stopping to stare at the cross with a carved crucified Jesus that hung on the wall. "Now that's just depressing." he said, more to himself before he turned and looked over them all. "What, did you think I wouldn't walk in?" he asked as he observed the shocked expressions of those gathered. "Please. To have fear of Him you have to believe in Him. I don't believe in Him any more than I believe in the good will of mankind." Blue Devil snorted.

"So what do you believe in, Satan, your father?" asked the Father, storming back down the isle but stopped when the Blue Devil suddenly pulled out his weapon and aimed it at his chest. "Or something worse?"

Blue Devil's green eyes narrowed dangerously. "What I believe in is Mother Earth and Father Sky and all they've given us. That's my belief."

"Indians!" gaped the Father. "Those Heathen beliefs are not welcomed here, and neither are you!"

Roxanne had the strong feeling that the holy man had just said something very, very wrong. She and Mr. Ashby both seemed to intake a breath of air as one as the narrowed, annoyed expression on the blue man's face turned to that of utter rage. To call those who raised him heathens was probably the biggest mistake this man could make since it was seconds later that the two Coyote Bots were suddenly upon the man, growling and snapping, wanting to bite but keeping themselves restrained.

There was a sudden blast, blue as his skin, and people near by shielded their eyes for they were unused to the intensity of the blast. When their vision returned, the Father was gone. Blue Devil was kneeling and picking something glowing up from the floor and he held it high above his head. "Let me start by saying that your house of God is incapable of keeping me out and it never will! Look, I have your holy man and he is mine and mine alone!" he announced, "He'll return to you when I feel he's damn good and ready and any one of you dare say those words to me you'll be joining him in purgatory! Am I clear?"

Blue Devil looked over the crowd, almost all of them terrified. Too terrified to even move. The fear in their eyes, on their faces, made his heart skip a beat. They feared him. They hated him. It's how it had been ever since he first started showing up in the town. The only people who hadn't looked at him like this was his family, and two people who were sitting towards the back of the Church. Roxanne looked shocked, but not scared, while Mr. Ashby just looked bored. He'd seen this before, he had probably anticipated it all.

Did that mean he was predictable? He hoped not.

Grabbing the rim of his hat he pulled it down over his eyes as he stalked down the esile of the Church, and stopped when he got to the pew that Mr. Ashby and Roxanne sat on. "Oh yes. One last thing." he turned and looked over the crowd, "Miss. Ritchi is opening her school tomorrow morning. I would hate to think any of the children in this town didn't want a decent education. Going there is mandatory. Any stragglers... well. Let's just say my pets will be chasing down any little one not in classes. Ciao ciao all."

With that he left, closely followed by Minion who's muffled talk sounded like he was telling the demon off. The Coyote Bots remained for a few short seconds, barked at those gathered, before running off after the Blue Devil.

"All right folks, before this becomes a panic calm down." Mr. Ashby said as he stood up first, holding his hands above his head, trying to keep people from freaking out over the fact the man of the Church had just been taken by the man in charge. "Don't go gettin' worked up now I know this looks bad, Father Clements bein'... takin' like that. But lemme tell you, of all the souls I seen Blue Devil snatch up they always manage to figger a way to get outta his clutches. 'N if any man can it'd be Father Clements! He's got his faith 'n you all know he's a stubborn ole' man. Even worse than me. So, let's keep him in our minds 'n prayers while I go try 'n talk some sense into Blue Devil."

Roxanne expected people to argue, to cry out and tell him not to go after the man... but nobody did. She watched as Mr. Ashby left the Church, and she in turn stood up also.

"...well. You heard." Roxanne said as she reached the door, turning to address the people. "Class starts tomorrow at nine sharp. I want all of you who are attending outside my door, don't make me have to go to your homes and carry you out because I will." she nodded her head firmly before walking out of the Church. She turned her head and she spotted Blue Devil talking with Mr. Ashby in the distance.

From the looks of things Mr. Ashby was really telling the blue man off, he was even waving a finger at him as if he was a stubborn little boy. Then again going by Blue Devil's posture, arms crossed, head bowed, and kicking at the dirt, he was acting the part fairly well. Wanting to hear more, she hurried to one of the closer buildings and walked along behind it, using the back alleys, in order to get closer and listen in. A part of her was telling her that this was a bad idea, that it wasn't any of her business but she knew more about the Blue Devil than anyone save Mr. Ashby. She had a right to know more about how the two interacted.

"-walkin' in on a Church like that. What'd I tell you?" Mr. Ashby asked.

Blue Devil said nothing.

"'N just cuz that fool of a man blasted yer faith you go 'n blast him inta a cube?" Mr. Ashby added.

"He slandered me. Nobody slanders me or them." Blue Devil finally snapped back. "People get uppity whenever God's name is even used as a swear yet you people can call my family heathens and their beliefs wrong. I hardly think that counts as fair. So yes. I did blast him 'inta a cube'." he mimicked the older man's drawl perfectly. "What are you going to do about it, old man? Bend me over your knee and spank me? I'm not a child anymore."

"Don't tempt me, boy." Mr. Ashby growled.

They stood there, glaring at one another, until Minion finally spoke. "Sir, I think Mr. Ashby might have a point. De-hydrating that man probably wasn't a good idea for your image."

"I want them to be afraid of me, honestly did you forget that?" Blue Devil snapped at the fish, turning his head to glare at him. "I'm the Blue Devil! I'm the demon from Hell with monsters and demons at my side to do my bidding! If I can't take from them the Holy man of this Hellhole then what good am I?" he growled, causing Minion to take a few noisy steps back and lifted his hands to block the verbal abuse. "He is mine now." he ducked a hand under his poncho and pulled the glowing blue cube from it, and grinned as he basked in the soft glow it gave off. "Aren't you, Mr. Clements?" he asked it softly before closing his fist around it, and turned his gaze to Mr. Ashby. "Do you want to join him, old man?"

Mr. Ashby took a step back, eyes still narrowed.

"Thought not." Blue Devil put the cube back into its place under his poncho and turned to look at Minion. "Come on. I've got boots to get."

Roxanne watched as the two walked away, Minion no longer whispering to him but walking silently, obediently, behind him. She got out from behind the building and hurried up to Mr. Ashby, calling out before she got too close so not to startle him. "Mr. Ashby!"

"Miss. Ritchi!" Mr. Ashby turned to look at her, tilting his hat back as he did. "Were you eavesdroppin' on us?"

"Perhaps." she replied, hardly one to gloss over facts. "That was a very brave thing you just did, Mr. Ashby. A little foolish too. Couldn't you see he was already on edge about what was said in there?"

"I know, I know." he replied with a huff, crossing his arms as he looked away after where Blue Devil and his companion fish had vanished. "But it's just so hard. I protected this town fer so many years, 'n it figures the week I return is the week he finally..." Mr. Ashby fell into silence and sighed. "I think maybe if I had stayed back, instead of headin' off into the world, none of this woulda gone 'n happened."

"You can't blame yourself." Roxanne said gently, reaching out to touch his arm. The man gave her a half smile, before nodding his head to her.

"You're right. Man can't blame himself fer everythin' happenin' in the world." Mr. Ashby admitted, before patting her hand with his own and she realized just how rough and hard working his hands were, it was like touching rough leather that had been left out in the weather to suffer a hundred summers. "Thanks Miss. Ritchi. Best you get on, big day tomorrow ain't it?"

"Very big, yes." Roxanne nodded and let him go, and sighed. She turned and paused to look off in the direction Blue Devil and Minion had left, but they were long gone by now. "Good day Mr. Ashby." she bid the man farewell and left, heading back towards her school house to make sure that everything was as it should be. Last thing she wanted to do was show up the next morning and discover she had no chalk on which to work with, that would be terribly embarrassing.

She also found it almost touching that the Blue Devil had taken the time to not only remind the people of her school opening, but to ensure that the children would be there. Roxanne had been all but anticipating a rousing sport of chasing children through the town to bring them in for an education but with someone like the Blue Devil putting the fear of skipping class, she was certain they would all be there. If only he'd done it in a ... well. Gentler manner? That would have been ideal, but you can't look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially a blue one with a large brain.

When the people finally began to filter out from the church and return to their normal every day activities, one of them was very shocked and somewhat horrified to see the Blue Devil sitting outside of his shop with his faithful mechanical monster at his side. Blue Devil was strumming a banjo that had been left leaning against the rocking chair outside, and when the middle aged man walked up to his store he slowed his walk to a halt, and stared at the blue man waiting there.

"Sir, Mr. Stone is here." the fish spoke, turning to the demon on the chair.

"Oh he is? Excellent!" Blue Devil got up to his feet and lowered the banjo, placing it back onto the chair. "Now my good shoe making man," he said as he took one step down so he was standing on the wooden steps and facing the man face to face. "I am in need of some new boots. Seeing how you're the only boot maker in town naturally I have come to you. Now I can pay you, if I must, but I want decals."

"Decals?" Mr. Stone asked quickly, fighting the urge to turn and run.

"Yes. Decals." Blue Devil said before standing on one foot and pointing to his old leather boots. "I want silver and blue lightning bolts running down the length of my boots here and there." he pointed on the fraying boots. "You can do that can't you?"

Mr. Stone nodded quickly.

"Excellent. Now I believe we have to do some measuring now?" Blue Devil asked, "That is how it's done isn't it?" he had never before gotten his feet measured up before. His boots were always stolen from dead men, and none of them ever really fitted his feet like they should have. One time he had worn boots twice his since and had used socks to make it so they would fit him, and the poor guy had ended up with blisters all over his toes and feet.

"Yes, yes. Measuring..." Mr. Stone unlocked the door to his business and changed the 'closed' sign to 'open'. Hands shaking he grabbed the tools he would need and a sketch pad on which to etch the design that the man now stalking his store would want. By the time he returned Blue Devil was holding up a big pair of boots in his hands.

"What do you think Minion, do you need new feet?"

"I don't know Sir." Minion replied as he looked down at his feet that, of course, wore boots that had been stolen from the largest man they could find. "Maybe?"

Mr. Stone resisted the urge to announce he wasn't going to fit boots for a monster from Hell but given what he had just witnessed in the church he knew better than to speak his feelings. Instead he nervously approached Blue Devil and held up the measuring tape. "Measurements, Mr. Blue Devil?" he asked. He got no answer, save for Blue Devil unceremoniously removing his boots and he was surprised to see that the man in black wore layers of socks in order to fit the boots onto his feet. "Oh dear."

And so foot measurements were taken, and Mr. Stone was surprised to discover that the Blue Devil's feet were around the same size as a woman's, if not smaller. The whole affair carried on in awkward silence, since neither man (nor fish) felt like really talking in the presence of the other. Soon the Blue Devil was sketching just what he wanted on the boots, blue and silver lightning bolt, running along the length of the boot until it struck the heel of it. He wanted it on both sides of each foot, and before Mr. Stone could say anything he placed a gold nugget on the man's desk.

"What... where..." he was about to ask where the Blue Devil had acquired such riches but he remembered who he was dealing with. No doubt the thief had stolen it from somebody, if not their own very bank! But still, being a business man with a family to support, Mr. Stone picked up the gold piece and checked it to see if it was genuine. Surprisingly, it was.

"So when can I expect them to be ready?" Blue Devil asked, tugging his regular boots back onto his heavily socked feet.

"Oh uh. I would say a few days time should do it." replied Mr. Stone.

"I'll be back tomorrow then." Blue Devil said as he paused to look at himself in a mirror that hung on the wall. He turned slowly and observed his thin frame, before turning to stare at Mr. Stone. "See you then."

"Have a good day!" Minion said cheerily to the man as he followed after his master out onto the street. "Excited over your new shoes, then?" he asked as he followed Blue Devil down the main street.

"Very. It's been forever since I had new boots. These ones are beginning to... well." Blue Devil looked down at his feet. His boots were faded black, scratched, and burned in some places. "You know."

"I know Sir. So, are you going to let that Church man go yet?" asked the fish, setting his metal hands to his hips.

"No! Now stop asking." Blue Devil shot back, narrowing his eyes at him.

"But what if somebody takes up a gun against you, Sir? In retaliation? I couldn't bare to see you shot again and hurt." Minion replied quietly. Blue Devil looked at him for a moment before reaching out and placing his hand to the furry arm of the robot body his friend was housed in.

"Nothing like that is ever going to happen again." he said quietly, his voice one of total seriousness. "A lot has changed since then. I'm older. I'm wiser. You know that."

"But you keep putting yourself out there! The way you de-hydrated that man? Taking control of this town? What are we going to do with it, Sir? Did you ever think that far ahead? Or was it all just a game between you and the Sheriff? Ever since he first showed up in town you two have been clashing like two angry steer, and I just want to know that you've thought all of this out!" Minion hadn't meant to let all of this out, and out in the open, but when he had gotten started he couldn't stop. All his life he had watched his boss stuffer, ever since the slaughter of their family and the town's refusal to seek out justice for the dead people.

And that Sheriff, always there and waiting for them and tackling them head on no matter what the situation. Blue Devil had suffered physical trauma ever since their first meetings, and Minion had always been there to nurse him back to health every single time. Bullet wounds were always hardest to fix, and Blue Devil's scarred skin was a testament to just how many shoot ups he had been caught up in and how many times Minion had patched and mended him. This town, these people, while they were afraid there was always somebody somewhere who was foolish and crazy enough to step up and try to liberate them.

If that happened, and they were roused into a mob, Minion knew he wouldn't be capable of protecting his Master. Not in this body that continually broke down and over heated so easily. He was always horrified that on a day that his Master would need his help and his suit would freeze up and he'd be unable to help him. Those nightmares were the worst for the fish,

The Blue Devil stood there, his eyes wide and staring up at the fish who had been his one companion since the death of his family. All that was left of his family was himself, and Minion, so maybe that made sense that they took so much care of each other. They were all they had, after all. But Minion had rarely voiced his concern so loudly, or so publicly. The blue man quickly glanced around, half expecting to find a crowd gathering around them but luckily for him there wasn't.

"This?" Blue Devil asked, gesturing to the area around them, "Is hardly the time and place don't you think? I don't know about you, oh finned friend of mine, but arguing out amongst the single minded people around here isn't something I want to experience any time soon. You," he pointed at Minion, wagging his finger as he spoke, "You are forgetting who's in charge. I've thought this through. To think I haven't, to doubt me, why. I'm hurt. Hurt." he pressed the pointed hand to his chest, fluttering his lashes as he did. "These people can continue to live in the dream state of thinking things will remain the same, never changing. I want them to feel secure; safe... that makes the change all the more shocking! That's the fun of it all, Minion. Don't you remember?"

Minion frowned slightly, before looking at his feet. "I remember, Sir. It's all about the show."

"And don't you forget it." Blue Devil said before stepping back from his hench fish, and adjusted his collar that had fallen down at some point during their heated discussion. "Now let's go see if you need new feet."

"We don't have any gear out here, Sir. Remember?" asked the fish as the two began to walk again down the main street.

Blue Devil blinked, amazed how he would forget that so easily. The blacksmith in town didn't have a quarter, no, one tenth of what he had back in the West where his lair had been positioned for the last fifteen years. "Oh yeah. We'll have to ride West."

"We will have to leave the Brain Coyotes here..." Minion glanced at two of the dogs that were play fighting one another, before one yipped and ran off, pursued by the other.

"They'll be fine. As long as they keep everyone under control, there won't be any hassles. Or biting. You got that?" he pointed to a near by passing Brain Coyote who stopped, and wagged its metallic tail at its creator happily as its mouth fell open, as if it were panting. "No biting. No no no no no." he waved his finger, and the robotic canine tilted its head to the side and whined like a rusting gear. "Good boy." as he withdrew his hand the Brain Coyote leapt forward playfully, snapping its jaws far enough away from his masters fingers so not to cause injury, but enough to show it wanted to play. "oh!" Blue Devil laughed before reaching out and stroked the curved, glowing dome. "It has been a while hasn't it?" he asked fondly.

The Brain Coyote whined once more before getting down on the dirt road and rolled over onto its back. Blue Devil, seemingly uncaring if people saw this or not, got down onto his knees and furiously rubbed his hand sover the metallic underbelly of the Brain Bot. Its tail was whipping up a small dust cloud from its excitement as Blue Devil grinned excitedly at this simple act that any normal pet owner had done at some point. "Who's a good cyborg? Who's a good creation of science? You are, yes you are!"

Minion rolled his eyes before glancing up and spotted somebody watching them from across the street. He recognized him as the red haired man that his boss had appraoched on the night of his conquest over the town, the new man. The fish and the man stared at each other a moment before Minion took a threatening step forward, and he watched the man quickly bolt out of sight. "Sir, if you really want to have a check over my feet it might do best to do it today." he finally said, looking down at his boss who was just now beginning to stand up as a few more Coyote Bots ran around him excitedly.

"Mmm yes you're probably right Minion. And I just want to check over the place, I know I left some projects sitting around and you know me, I hate leaving things unfinished." Blue Devil said as he adjusted his wide brimmed hat. "And I need a good walk."

The two made their way towards City Hall, ignoring those townsfolk who had left the church who wisely gave them a wide girth so they wouldn't accidentally run into them. Outside the City Hall the two robotic horses stood, still as ever. Minion cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, looking at a group of children who had clustered together across the street to watch them. Maybe they thought being in a larger number would offer them some protection, or bravery, to dare look at the two demons for longer than a second. But when they realized the fish was watching they scattered like field mice and were gone.

"Are you sure that leaving the town is a good idea, Sir? My feet aren't in that great a need of needing repairs." Minion said as he watched the town grow slowly into the distance as he and his blue companion rode out West bound on the backs of their horses.

"The town isn't going anywhere Minion." Blue Devil scoffed as they rode across the dry plains, the metalic horses beneath them clanking as they did and as usual the smoke continued to bellow out from the exhausts on their hind quarters. "I told them to continue on with their normal things that those normal people do and I am sure they'll do just that." he said with a sure smile on his face.

"I'm glad you have so much optimism. Since I don't." Minion mumbled.

"You're such a pill Minion."

They passed the destroyed gate way, and Blue Devil made a mental note to fix it. Even if he no longer lived up here he didn't want bandits sneaking up in order to destroy, or heavens forbid, steal some of his creations inside. Once they were right outside the cliff face and the built-in buildings, they got off of the horses and left them outside. As they walked into the first, and huge, building Blue Devil reached out and flipped a switch. From the switch came a spark of blue and white light before it began to rapidly arch its way up some wires that went upwards to the ceiling. Blue Devil and Minion continued to walk into the building as artificial light began to pour down from above, lighting up the darkened area.

From the outside the hideout looked like any other well made building with its defences of the fences, and the stray Coyote Bots that loitered here or there sniffing at the dirt, or at each other... but inside it was like walking into a time machine (as theorized by Jules Vern) and being pushed forward into the distant future when man was probably living on the Moon, or even possibly Mars as well. The floors, ceilings, and walls were all metal coated and showed their age by the dents, creases and spills left on practically every surface. One section showed the scars of a particularly painful explosion that had left black burn marks on the metal, so ingrained they were impossible to wipe clean no matter how hard Minion tried. There were wooden tables of various styles and sizes, chairs that had been stolen from bars along with some stools, written on chalk boards that had mathematic equations written on in white chalk, and large metalic consoles covered in buttons and levers and On raised platforms were creations of science that would throw the minds of the people living in the city outside.

The numerous tables were smothered in paper work, bunkers and beakers, and prototypes to devices that had little spikes built onto them. Large blueprints with white writing was acted almost like table cloths where most of the other little tid bits were rested on. Mugs that had been half emptied had been left here or there, as well as plates with crumbs covering them. Tsking at the sight of them Minion moved over to them and collected them, since when Sheriff Wayne had busted in on them they had been in the middle of eating a meal together. Of course that meant he had left everything where it was, hence the mess now. "That was so rude of him..." Minion muttered as he carried the mugs and plates over to the sink he used to was things up with.

He walked past all manner of devices that had grown from being a drawing, to a prototype, to a final design. One that Blue Devil was especially proud of was a horseless carriage that moved itself without the aid of tracks like a train. It was still in early development and was nowhere near ready to be taken outside to be seen by the foolhardy people of the world but that didn't mean that it wasn't impressive. No doubt if somebody from the town saw such a creation they would faint at the sight of it, and call it another 'demonic creation from Hell' or something pathetic like that. Blue Devil could honestly laugh at their naievity sometimes.

There was even a few flying machines dangling from the cieling on cables and ropes. They swayed gently as they always had been, ropes creaking, and chains scraping against one another. Minion cast a nervous glance upwards as he walked under a particularly huge machine, after quickly rinsing the plates, which had taken Blue Devil years to complete. Unfortunately it was so powerful that running it would mean removing power to the rest of the base, so it wasn't used that often. All the metal that had been used in the base had been 'aquired' by various means. New trains didn't just get robbed out here, they vanished entirely sometimes and were never seen from again. And the conductors and passengers who had been on the trains at the time sometimes ended up wandering the desert lost and confused after days of mental blanks that they couldn't explain, other than seeing a bright flash of blue before their memory loss. Metalworkers in town even found their stocks raided and left completely empty, but they didn't have to wonder who would do such a thing and new better than to complain about it too much.

When your goods had been stolen over a period of fifteen years you figured out who was doing it soon enough. And because he had been doing it for so long, Blue Devil knew the art of metal working better than most. It had all come so... naturally, to him. Every part of it. Putting together new machines and devices had come so naturally, it just had to be built into his very genetic make up. Even dealing with chemicals and various tools and materials came as second nature. That was how the Coyote Bots had been created so long ago, in fact the first one had been put together not a few months after the death of his family. They had been made out of necesity, but also because the young child had felt afraid of being alone out there, unprotected since he knew he couldn't rely on the townsfolk near by. Aristotle, as the Brain Bot came to be named, was built for not only security but companionship. Even with Minion being with Blue Devil, having been used to having a huge family around him made the transition to being only with Minion all the more jarring. The first little Coyote Bot had barked at everything that had approached, and had stumbled around like its feet were too big for it. Said Coyote Bot was still around but after years of functioning, it was no longer as up to date as its newer, younger siblings.

Said Coyote Bot was curently curled up under one of the huge tables, glowing domed head having dimmed over the years. At the presence of its creator though, it slowly began to get to its feet and made its way over to Blue Devil, nuzzling its jaws against his leg. Absently, Blue Devil stroked its glowing head.

"Oh Minion, there's no place like evil lair." Blue Devil sighed ."No place at all."

"It looks like Aristotle kept everything in one piece." Minion commented, smiling down at the old Coyote Bot.

"Of course he did. It's his duty, isn't it boy?" he asked, crouching down and ran both of his gloved hands over the Bot's head. "Who's a good boy? Who's my favorite Bot in the world? You are, yes you are!"

The Bot wagged its tail happily, though the squeaking sound of the rusting tail was a little painful to bare. Quickly the other grabbed an oil can and tended to the tail. "But we're not here for just visitings sake. Minion, go get on your chair."

Sighing, Minion made his way through to the back of their home slash lair, and approached a huge chair that had been designed to hold his weight but also to allow him to sit properly since most chairs didn't come with room for the aparatis on his back that kept his suit operating. He eased onto the seat and fell back against it, and stared up at the ceiling. Hanging above him was a blue light, accompanied by all manner of tools and equipment hanging from cables suspended high above him on the ceiling. Hearing a clamping noise the fish looked down and saw Blue Devil already working a screw driver into one of his knees. The two fell into comfortable silence as the air filled with the noise of tinkering and metal scraping against metal.

Aristotle made his way around the large chair, sniffing to find a comfortable place to lay down. Finding one he bowged quietly and settled down, yawned, and went back to sleep.

"Sir... I hate to be the one to keep harking on about certain things but..." Minion said as Blue Devil was pulling off one of his huge feet. "...do you think they're proud of you, still?"

"Grandmother told me... a long time ago, that they would always be proud of me, no matter what I do." Blue Devil said quietly.

"Do you think that includes overthrowing the town, siezing control, and cubing their priest?" Minion asked. "They taught us to respect them."

"They didn't respect us." snapped Blue Devil angrily, lifting his gaze to look at the fish in the glass dome. "They offered me no help when they were murdered, did they? You saw it all happen. Those men riding in, what they did, and what did they do Minion, what did they do?"

Minion winced at the harsh questions, and the tone that his boss was using. "How could you ask me that...?" Minion asked quietly. "I can never forget what happened.."

"So stop asking me stupid things and let me focus on your feet." Blue Devil said sternly.

He and Minion looked at each other silently, and a conversation was communicated without the use of words. Minion could still see that obvious pain in his friend's face and eyes, a pain that had been lodged there ever since that horrible night. It was a night neither Blue Devil, or Minion could ever forget.

It had been a cool night, and the two had just had a long day learning how to make matting. Even if it was considered a woman's job, Blue Sky was one of those children with a natural feeling of curiosity that would never go away. He wanted to try, and do, everything possible. His hands were very rarely empty, or still, and the little fish in a ball was always being carried around in a wrap that mothers normally used to keep their babies close.

He had gotten to bed early, just like any good growing young boy. Outside, the smells of the rock and cool sand drifted through the windows and he could hear the gentle conversations of the adults. They were talking about the coming seasonal change, and that they should go into town to sell their wares for money in order to buy more blankets and food. It was just like every other year, and nothing was out of the ordinary.

How long had he been asleep? He didn't know.

The sounds of guns being fired woke him from his bed first and he sat up in his bed, heart racing in his ears as he heard the voices of his uncles and aunts cries of alarm. Then he heard the rumbling of horse hooves and the animals whinneys of alarm as more gun fire filled the air. The screams were horrifying, and Minion was already awake and asking questions that Blue Sky couldn't hear nor answer. On instinct he grabbed the wrap and pulled Minion to him, and looped the material around his shoulders and got to his feet.

Rushing outside, Blue Sky witnessed a horror that wound plague his nightmares for the rest of his life. His brothers and sisters, trampled beneath the hooves of the horses that were being ridden by white men. A few of his uncles were already slumped over their wives, trying to protect them from the men but they were already dead. The sand was stained with blood from both parties, and Blue Sky could barely stifle a scream of terror that siezed his heart.

"Run!"

Grandmother's voice broke through the screams and sounds of the slaughter and he spun on his heels to see the old woman who was clumpled against one of the near by walls. She was bleeding heavily from her stomach, and it was trickling from the corners of her mouth. He made to move to her but she held up her hands to him, eyes wide with terror, but also pleading. "Run!" her voice was shaking more from the panic and the pain as she begged the child. "Run!"

Blue Sky did, though he could barely feel his feet moving him as he did. The horses seemed to be everywhere, yet amongst the cries and death it was almost as if he wasn't even a part of this world anymore. He had to get away, he had to reach the town, to raise the alarm.

"What in the name of Hellfire is THAT?" the voice startled him, and he spun around to see a huge black horse standing behind him with a massive man riding on its back. The man was overweight, unshaven, and smelt horrible of body odour that ripped its way into Blue Sky's nose. Never before had Blue Sky seen such a disgusting blob of a man before, and if it weren't for the carnage taking place around him he would have made a snide comment about the mans need for a good wash.

"What, what is it?" a female voice, a woman with rich red hair that was pinned back in a bun, beneath a black hat that was tilted on the side of her head and wearing a dress as red as the blood being spilt tonight, rode up on a brown horse. She looked a little old, especially with those wrinkles, purple eye shadow and a spot that stuck out on her left cheek just below her eye. The woman was obviously still strong enough to control the wild looking horse beneath her. Spotting Blue Sky she gasped in horror, and recoiled. "Oh dear Lord he's hideous, just lookit the lil' bastard!"

"Blue Sky, run!" the cry caught his attention, and he looked away to see one of his uncles suddenly leap out at the man, swinging a tomahawk at his head. The horse violently turned at the sudden appearance of the man, and spun away from the onslaught. However the axe came down on the horses neck causing it to whinny in pain and rear up onto its back legs as blood pooled from the point of impact, but it was nowhere near powerful enough to kill it. The large man fell from his saddle and landed badly but was already drawing his weapon from its holster on his hip.

"Run!" screamed his uncle before his voice, and life, was cut short by the bullet going through his neck. He slumped to the ground, and Blue Sky's feet were moving again. He was running as fast as he could, and could hear the bullets hit the ground behind where he was running. He was always so fast on his feet, so quick and nimble. Now it was coming in for good use, since the bullets just weren't hitting him.

"Shoot him! Shoot him!" he heard the harsh hisses of the woman on her horse.

Suddenly hot pain screamed from his stomach and Blue Sky felt all the wind knocked out of him. The pain was overwhelmingly painful, and he knew he had been shot. One of the men on horses ahead of him had finally made its mark. But he knew the lay of the land better than these men on their horses. Despite the horrible pain in his stomach, and his blood staining his clothes, Blue Sky kept going. He kept running, and then jumped off the near by ledge.

Beneath the ledge was some thick, tangled bushes he and his friends were known to play hide and track in. It was a good way to learn how to silence your foot steps and breathing, making it harder to be heard while being tracked by somebody else. Breathing harshly, Blue Sky curled around Minion's orb and prayed to Father Sky and Mother Earth to give him a chance, a chance to live.

He covered his ear with one of his hands as the screams continued, and was unaware of when he finally passed out, the sounds of the death of his family still ringing in his ears.

Just how he had the strength to pull himself out from under the bushes he didn't know. The sun was high in the sky, and his lungs stung, and the wound in his stomach still throbbed from the bullet quite possibly still lodged somewhere in his body. He had to get to the town, he just had to. The sheriff would send out a posse, and bring the doctors in to tend to the survivors. He may not be able to save everyone, but somebody had to be alive... they had to be...

"I think the bolt is as tight as it's going to be, Sir." Minion said suddenly, causing Blue Devil to almost drop the tool he was using.

Looking down at his hands he saw that Minion was right. He had replaced both of his feet by now, each one brand new and having been put together by memory alone while his mind had been somewhere else entirely. Just how he had done all of that, created two new feet, and installed them was just another sign of how brilliant his mind was. How many hours had passed? Had Minion spoken to him at all during that time, or had they been totally silent?

"Right, sorry..." Blue Devil set the tool aside and stepped forward, twisting a valve that was hidden under the plate just above both of his legs. This returned the power to his feet, allowing Minion ability to control them. "How's that feel?" he asked.

Minion cautiously sat up on the chair he had been sitting on and wriggled his five toes slowly. "So far so good?" the fish asked before standing up, testing his feet. He took one careful step, grateful that Blue Devil reached out and took one of his hands into his to keep him steady just in case he got wobbly. "So far so great!" Minion grinned before smirking at his friend, and playfully punched his arm. "Thank you, Sir. You really didn't have to."

"You're my only friend." Blue Devil shrugged nonchalantly as he walked away, wiping his greased hands on a rag. "I have to take care of you."

"We have to take care of this problem, 'n if nonna you fellers are game enough ta try then I will!"

Roxanne, taking the children out of the school house for a walk during their study break, didn't like the sound of these talks she over heard near the saloon. So far the school day had been all but expected, the children arrived, a few with apples for the new head mistress, and had taken their seats. It was obvious in their wide, apprehensive eyes, that they feared the Blue Devil would appear to do a head count and make sure that they were all indeed there. Roxanne had begun the class with basic writing skills, and the familiar squeak of white chalk on small black plaques soon filled the air and she had some semblance of normality restored to her life.

After dealing with what she, and the entire town, had endured in the past few days any kind of normality was welcomed.

"Children, I will call you when it's time to return to your classes. Go play." she gestured vaguely with her hand and the group of children thanked her eagerly before raced off laughing, grateful for the break in classes.

Given a free moment Roxanne walked over to the small crowd that had gathered around one of the men she didn't know. She thought his name was Mr. Fox, but she couldn't be certain. Even if the town wasn't that greatly populated, it was still a chore remembering everybodys names and faces. She would get there, eventually.

"You all really gonna allow this feller to ride inta town, kill off our sheriff, 'n then take control?" Mr. Fox asked the group, frowning. "I heard tell'a fellers who can be hired on ta kill somebody! Why dun we pool our funds together 'n try it?" he asked.

"Don't be a gosh darn fool, Fox." said another man. "I hate 'ta imagine what Blue Devil'll do to the poor sons of bitches, 'n the poor sod who actually hired 'em."

"Y'all can't be scared forever! He's gotta be run outta town!" Mr. Fox replied angrily. "Mr. Stone's bin workin' all yesterday 'n last night makin' boots fer the demon! His hands are covered in sores! Who's ta say who he'll make demands of next?"

"You're being stupid." the sharp, dry voice of Mr. Dunning surprised Roxanne and she turned her head to see the bar tender standing there, arms folded across his chest. "If you bring people from out of town into a town like this, you're just asking for trouble."

"And whut do you know 'bout it, Mr. Fancy?" demanded Mr. Fox.

"Never bring out of towners to deal with personal problems. It only causes more problems." Bernard said dryly.

"Bah, what's a man who serves drinks know?" asked one of the other men.

"Now that's just hurtful." replied the bar tended, turning his head away and huffing his breath through his nose.

"What's going on?" Roxanne asked him quietly as the group of men began to talk amongst themselves in harsh, quiet whispers in fear of being over heard somebody dangerous.

"They're being idiots." Bernard said simply as the two turned away from the group and began walking away from them. "They're talking about hiring on somebody to come into town and kill Blue Devil."

Roxanne's eyes widened at this news. The realization that these people had finally begun to contemplate these kinds of actions, instead of fearing Blue Devil on principal, was shocking to her. Having learned what she had from Mr. Ashby over the past few days, what the man had been through in his life, the hardships and the pain of loosing his family only to turn his back on the world who hadn't been there for him when he needed it, she was horrified at the prospect of him being killed. He didn't deserve that, not really.

He was just lashing out at people who hadn't been there for him.

But how do you go about healing a wound that old, and that deep? She didn't know.

"That's... that's simply horrible." she heard herself whisper.

"My thoughts exactly. Maybe they could just, I don't know. Banish him possibly? But out right kill him? And where would we get the money to hire people in the first place?" Bernard asked. "Not from my till, I'll tell you that much for free." he scoffed.

"What's Mr. Ashby got to say about all this?" Roxanne asked, turning her head to glance at the men.

"I doubt they've brought it up." Bernard replied quietly, watching them also.

"Boy are you guys in luck!" the voice of Mr. Stewart sent waves of unpleasantness down Roxanne's spine as she heard him approach the group. Where had he come from, had he been listening in on the conversation all this time from the shadows or something? She watched as the red haired, and dirty, man strutted over to the group. Bernard began to slowly move back to the group, gesturing to Roxanne to follow him. Equally curious, she couldn't help but drift after him.

"In luck?" Mr. Fox asked, confused.

"Turns out I know a real band of rough guys, by word I do." Hal said as he set his thumbs in his belt proudly with a satisfied smug expression smeared across his grimy face. "They go 'round towns like ours, helpin' out when they can. Real straight shooters, too. Could shoot wings off a fly." he went on to explain. "I heard tale they once cleared out an entire town of Injins like it wuz nothin'! 'N to them, it really wuz nothin'."

"Do you know where they are, now?" Mr. Fox asked. From the expressions of those around him, they were beginning to buy into the notion of hiring on somebody to come take care of the problem that was Blue Devil.

"Sure do. Not too far from here. If y'all gimmie a kind of cover I can get on a horse 'n ride off ta fetch em fer ya." Hal went on to explain.

"A cover?" asked a woman who had joined in the conversation a while back.

"Well." he pointedly looked at a few Coyote Bots who were loitering near by. The beastly demons turned their heads, seemingly picking up that they were being spoken about, and growled lowly. "Somethin' ta keep them boys interested 'n lookin' elsewhere. I ain't no help ta any of ya if I don't git anywhere 'n they bring my horse down, am I?" he asked.

"Feller's got a point."

"How do we get their attention without bein' ripped apart?"

"They move like the monsters they are..."

"Excuse me, Mr. Stewart." Roxanne stepped forward, causing most of the men to step away as the young woman, and teacher, approached. "But just what are the fees these 'friends' of yours charge?"

"Fees?" Hal replied, looking a little confused.

"Yes. Fees. What are they going to ask for, in return of doing away with the Blue Devil?" she asked. "You know, by means of payment?"

"Shoot Ms. Ritchi," he turned on that smarmy smile that made it fel like slime was crawling up her spine. "When they hear what kinda pickle we're in here, they'll come out here 'n help us fer free. Me bein' their friend 'n all, they'll get here even quicker than normal." the man puffed out his chest proudly. "Pretty impressive, hm?"

"Quite." Roxanne said flatly. "Well. I hope you all put a great deal of thought into this plan of yours and don't go and do anything foolish. I need to get back to educating your children." with that she turned and walked quickly away from the group of men and women before plucking a whistle she hung around her necks. Giving a quick puff she blew sharply into the whistle, calling all the children back to her. "Come children, we've still got much to learn." she said once over half of them had returned to her.

As she lined them up she cast a glance over to the group of townsfolk, most of who had already dispersed. Mr. Dunning gave her a worried look, before pointing to the clock tower, and then held up five fingers. With that he was off, back towards his bar, where he was no doubt going to get ready for another busy night of serving drinks to everyone who entered his bar.

Roxanne led the children back to the school house and held the door open for them, ensuring they had all returned from their breaks like they had promised. They had, thankfully. She then cast a glance to the West, where clouds continued to stream across in the hazy day light. There was a storm coming it seemed, but she had to wonder if the storm brewing within the town istelf could even compare to the one that Mother Nature was going to bring them.

_To be continued_


End file.
